Walking Alone
by rianess
Summary: Slash / XOver with Labyrinth. Harry defeated Voldemort aged seventeen, and slowly found himself abandoned by the wizarding world, discarded like one of Dudley's broken toys. Where does he go from here? Now completed
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter or anything else you recognise. Such as The Labyrinth and all that!**

**A/N: _Another new story! _You cry, when you've been waiting so patiently for an update on the others. What can I say? I watched The Labyrinth on video the other day, and had this very warped dream...**

**Warning: May contain slash and silliness, possibly at the same time...**

* * *

Walking Alone

* * *

_"There's such a sad love deep in your eyes, a kind of pale jewel, opened and closed within your eyes, I'll place the sky within your eyes..."_

* * *

**_20th May, 2005_****_ – Alderbury, Wiltshire. _**

The book was old, that was for definite. The cover was made of rich red leather, slightly worn with age, but still in very good condition. No, it wasn't its appearance which made it feel ancient, it was something else. A _resonance_. Harry stared at the words embossed on its surface, and ran his fingers over the ridges and lines which made up the words.

"_The Labyrinth."_ He whispered, gazing at it with heavy lidded eyes.

Snapping out of whatever trance the book put him in, he looked over the woman behind the pasting table in front of him. The thing had surely seen better days, and was groaning under the weight of the wares it displayed. He held up the thin volume for her to see.

"How much for this?" He asked, a casual indifference on his face. It was the thing to do when purchasing something you dearly wanted, even in such surroundings as this. Unless you were happy to pay a heft price of course.

"Hmm…I'll give it to you for a pound." She said, a hint of defiance in her pose. Harry smiled disarmingly.

"Great, here you go." He replied and handed over the coin. The woman smiled back briefly, and then her attention was drawn by another eager customer. Placing his new book in his inside jacket pocket, Harry looked around the rest of the field.

He was at a car boot sale – that timeless muggle tradition repeated around the world in different formats, and even in cyberspace thanks to eBay and the like. Though Harry liked eBay, he also liked the excuse to leave the house that coming to these things required. It was bout the only time he actually _did _leave the house these days. As he wandered, his hand drifted down to the book now resting against his chest, almost over his heart. He wanted to read it, sod the rest of the afternoon.

That decided, he made his way to where his car was parked, and unlocked the door. Getting in, he sat for a moment, key in the ignition. He watched the muggles walking round the stalls in the distance, smiling and laughing, some with children, some with friends, and sighed.

Them over there all together and happy, and him over here on his own. A repeating pattern. This was not how he had envisioned his future. Sighing deeply again and pushing that thought away for the moment – it would only make him sad – and turned the engine on.

* * *

**_18th January, 1997_** **_–_** **_Hogwarts Castle_** **_North West_** **_Highlands_**

"Everyone – Witches, Wizards – all magical beings! May I have your attention please! The Dark Lord Voldemort is no more! Please raise your glasses and honour our hero and saviour, Harry James Potter!"

Looking a bit worse for wear, and clearly still exhausted, Harry limped into the Great Hall on the arm of the MediWitch Poppy Pomfrey, and was overwhelmed by the shouts and cheers. He swayed a little, but Poppy held him firm. He spoke to her out of the side of his mouth.

"Madame, I think I'm about to expire on my feet here." He muttered and she smiled.

"Just a few quick words then hmm? Or would you like the chair?" She whispered back.

Harry glanced over the eager faces. He really didn't want to disappoint them. But he was so tired…

"The chair I guess. I suppose they'll be unhappy if I leave now." He murmured and she frowned. Looking over the Head Table she could see Dumbledore beckoning them. He clearly wanted his Golden Boy up on the stage with him, regardless of his physical state. She had battled him endlessly to try and get him to push back this celebration, to no avail.

Reluctantly, she waved her wand and a magical wheelchair appeared. Harry gratefully sank into it and allowed himself to be wheeled to the front, silently praying this would over soon and he would be allowed to rest.

* * *

**_20th May, 2005_****_ – Somewhere near the River _** **_Avon_****_, Wiltshire. _**

Harry sat on the slightly damp grass, ignoring the feeling as it spread to his jeans, and allowed the sound of the nearby water to soothe him. Lately he'd been feeling a little strange. Well, stranger than normal. As if he was waiting for something, which meant no sense at all, because his life's '_purpose' _had been attained, he'd fulfilled that sodding prophecy when he'd been only seventeen years old…

_So young, so famous so easily. Not the wisest thing to be… _

But he'd had no choice, and now, well _now_, that anticipation was building again. The way it had done during the so-called war. Ha! As if it had ever got that far, no they'd simply trotted him out and let _him _do all the work. And oh! Wasn't he paying for that now!

He pushed his bitter thoughts away. They would do him no good, as his 'healer' so often told him. Bastard.

He felt something warm against his chest and realised the book he'd purchased that morning was still there, and was calling him to it. Without further thought, he opened it, and began to read, the gentle afternoon sun warming him as he bent over the pages.

* * *

**_Unknown time_****_ – Unknown location. _**

_"Guard well the child of Skye _

_For Mortals covet that which is never theirs _

_Keep faith, for though the child may be torn _

_From this world where he belongs _

_Love will guide him back _

_And Hope will surely be born. _

_But Beware! _

_Mortals are ever fools..." _

The council stared bewildered at the Seer as she finished speaking. An aide rushed to her side as she slumped in her chair, and helped her take a sip of water.

"What can this mean?" One of them spoke. None, had the chance to answer however, as a shrill scream pierced the air.

"DELLANDARIO!"

* * *

**_7th October, 1998_** – **_Leaky Cauldron, _** **_London_**

"Look! There he goes! Can you believe it?"

"_I _heard he didn't even show up to his own graduation!"

"Really? Well, I heard he hasn't done anything since leaving school."

"_Such_ a disappointment. There was so much talk of him becoming an Auror."

"Or a professional Quidditch player. I would have _loved _to go and watch him in matches. Those tight, tight Quidditch uniforms…"

"But _now _look at him! A wastrel! Good for nothing. I mean _really._"

"Quite right. He may have defeated You-Know-Who, but that's no excuse for being _lazy_."

"Oh I agree. His parents would have been so _disappointed_."

Harry did his best to ignore the women as he walked past them in the Leaky Cauldron, stopping to exchange a few words with Tom, before going out the back door and tapping the appropriate bricks. Mutters and stares followed him wherever he went now.

It seemed his adoring public had gone off him once more. Since he had finished school four months ago, and hadn't made any great strides towards one career or another, they started to think he was a lazy bones who was using his fame as an excuse to do nothing and free load off the rest of the world.

They didn't take into account that he didn't _need _to free load off anyone, since he was richer than he wanted to be, thanks to his parents and Sirius. Money he would have gladly given away only to be with them again. To see his Mother, hear his Father laugh, to run with Padfoot again…

But then the public delighted in knocking down the people they built up in the first place, in that respect wizards and witches were no different to muggles. Despite the fact that he was only eighteen, they expected him to have married a nice witch by now and have made a good start on popping off a sprog or two. The idea filled him with disgust, as did some of their career choices for him.

He was in practically everyone's bad books at the moment in fact. Dumbledore was annoyed because he refused the Defence Against the Dark Arts position at Hogwarts. Clearly the old man had wanted to keep him close by in case he needed his pawn again.

Snape still hated him simply for existing, which was no change from how he felt about him at their first meeting. So at least the overgrown bat was consistent if nothing else.

Remus had disappeared a month or so ago, saying he had to 'find himself' or some such rubbish. He had made it obvious that he hadn't forgiven Harry for the death of Sirius, as ridiculous as that was. He had been very hurt, but had tried to be mature and point out that it wasn't his fault. Remus had accused him of trying to shift the blame and not facing up to his responsibilities, and then upped and left. No one knew where he was.

Ron and Hermione were still kind of talking to him, well, sort of anyway. Their seventh year had been tough on them, and they weren't as good friends as they might wish to be. Hermione had divided most of her time between snogging Ron and studying for the NEWTS, so there wasn't much room for Harry in there.

Ron's previous jealousy of the attention Harry received reared its ugly head one more time, and drove a wedge between them which was still there to this day. Currently he was at the Auror academy and had practically no free time at all. What little he had, he was spending with Hermione, since they were engaged to be married.

The rest of the Weasleys he saw off and on, though he was closer to the twins than anyone else. Even so, they had begun to pull away from him as well lately…

* * *

**_5th February, 2001_** – **_Court Room Ten, Ministry of Magic. _**

"We the Wizengamot, based on the testimonies and findings provided to these proceedings, declared that the wizard known as Harry James Potter is to have his magic bound until such a time as he is no longer a threat to Wizarding society. To that end, he is to attend scheduled visits with a Mind Healer, who will attempt to rectify his behaviour which has led to so many errors of judgement in the past. He will not have full access to his fortune, but will be provided with an allowance sufficient for his needs. May it teach him humility. Aurors, take him for processing!"

There was no chance to struggle.

No chance to protest.

No chance at all, really.

Until his powers were restored, Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World, The-Boy-Who-Lived, was a muggle.

He wondered briefly if Voldemort was laughing at him from hell.

* * *

**_20th May, 2005_****_ – Somewhere near the River _** **_Avon_****_, Wiltshire. _**

Harry closed the book, oblivious to the fading light and the coolness of the evening. The girl in this book…she was so stupid! To just flat out turn the King down like that! When he was offering her _everything, _all her dreams…and his heart. She was an idiot…

If it had been him, well…who knew? It was just a story, right? Well, even so, if it _had _been him, he would not have answered that way, definitely not. The King was offering that girl the things Harry had always dreamed of – a home and someone to love him, take care of him. He was sure the King of the Goblins would not have been in awe of Harry-Bloody-Potter _and _he would never have stolen his magic or money for fear he would turn into the next Dark Lord.

He sighed again. His 'healer' would berate him for even entertaining the thought that the Goblin King could be real. Take the Goblins at Gringotts, for instance, they didn't seem to bow down to any royalty. There was no mention of a King in any of the history books, only a chieftain. But still…

"_Jareth…_" He whispered, trying the name out, not knowing or understanding what attention it was drawing to him, or from whom. He chuckled lightly and laid down on the ground. The moisture of the grass make his neck cold, but he ignored it, staring at the darkening sky. He _longed _to be able to fly again. He missed his broom so...

A bird flew past, on its way somewhere, and he wondered for a moment what it would be like to fly with wings of his own. Just the thought make his back ache and itch.

"_Jareth…_" He whispered again, half wondering if the Goblin King would answer him, fantasising that he would. Fantasy was all that was left to him now, the emptiness where his magic used to be was temporarily filled by his imagination. It was a fleeting thing, but it was one of the few things that kept him going. What he was keeping going _for, _was lost on him however.

Gazing at the sky for who knew how long, Harry watched as stars appeared one by one. A yearning filled him, and without knowing why, he spoke: "I wish the Goblin King would come and take me away, right now."

And all that was left of Harry James Potter, was the slight indentation in the grass where he had laid.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter, Labyrinth or anything else you may recognise. **

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I really appreciate them. If you have any questions please review/PM me, and I'll do my best to answer. Thanks to** **FaeriesMidwife for the kind permission to use of ideas from** Lost and Lonely** in this fic. Would anyone like to Beta? If so, email me: rianess at lycos dot co dot ** **uk**

**Thanks! **

* * *

Chapter Two

* * *

_"There's such a fooled heart  
Beating so fast in search of new dreams  
A love that will last within your heart  
I'll place the moon within your heart."_

* * *

**_20th May, 2005_****_ - Somewhere in the Underground_**

"_Jareth…"_

The Goblin King's head turned at the sound of someone calling his name. Smiling with anticipation at what games he could play with yet another foolish mortal, he summoned a sphere and studied it carefully. Something caught his eye.

_Funny_…it looked like a mortal, it sounded like a mortal…but it didn't _feel _like a mortal. Tricks! Someone was playing tricks!

"_Jareth…"_ His name almost sounded like a caress, whispered with such a delicious sense of longing.

Perhaps this mortal was something special? Though, he was wary of doing anything out of the ordinary, he had been so stung the last time he let a mortal in, though he could hardly be blamed for what happened with Sarah Williams. She _did _have the book after all. But then, this mortal did too…_so strange. _Where did he get it?

_"I wish the Goblin King would come and take me away, right now." _

_Ah_, show time!

* * *

**_20th May, 2005_****_ - Jareth's Throne Room, The Castle Beyond the _** **_Goblin_** **_City_**

"Well, well, well, what _do _we have here then? Wake up foolish mortal. For you, the hereafter begins today..."

The voice drifted across Harry's consciousness, and stirred something in him which he didn't recognise. He tried to prise his eyes open, but his head was pounding. He groaned and rubbed a hand against his forehead, trying to ease the pain. A low chuckle caught his attention and he blinked, slowly clearing the dust from his eyes and focusing on the face in front of him.

And _Merlin! _What a face it was...

The hair paler than the moonlight, the strange eyes, which looked so foreign and yet were so compelling. He felt lost all of a sudden, and unworthy of being in the presence of such an exquisite being. He was very aware of his awkward and gangly body, which had never really settled down from being a teenager into adulthood. He often felt like his real body had been forced into this shell, and was trying to break free. Which was ridiculous in itself.

"He-Hello..." He said, feeling totally inadequate, but not really knowing what else to say.

"Hello yourself. Welcome to my Kingdom young man. It will be your home for the rest of your life." The creature replied, and Harry guessed that this must be the Goblin King.

"J-Jareth?" He gasped, mentally cursing himself for sounding like an idiot. But truly, this was all rather overwhelming. He could feel the magic literally pouring off the man, and it made his own magical core, imprisoned these long years, stir with an aching kind of yearning.

"My, my, my, aren't we just the articulate little mortal? Or should that be _morsel? _Yes, I am Jareth. And you called for me. So, do you really wish to spend your eternity here, in my power? For if you do not, then there is only one chance for you to return Aboveground." All this was delivered in a low, sultry voice which made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand on end. The King's voice coupled with _that_ face, and _those_ eyes mesmerised him, and he wasn't really paying that much attention to the actual words.

"Yessss…" Harry hissed, not even realising he was speaking in Parseltongue. It was strange that when his powers had been bound, he did not lose the ability he had gained from Voldemort. Though, he supposed that since it was such an obscure gift, no one really knew if it was attached to one's core or not.

And, even if it was, it didn't require the employment of any spell; it was just like using another language, similar to when one learns French or Spanish. Though, one could not _learn _to speak Parseltongue, of course. He suddenly realised that the King was staring at him, surprise evident in his expression.

Jareth was in fact momentarily taken aback. He had not been expecting such a thing from this new arrival. Though, he _did _sense something unusual about him before, and maybe this was what it was.

"_So this fellow can speak the language of the serpents? Interesting. I wonder what other secrets he is concealing…" _He thought to himself, and decided he would need to spend some time puzzling this odd young creature out. In fact, he was rather looking forward to it.

"Come, you must be tired and need your rest. Let us adjourn to more comfortable surroundings." He told the young man, after all, a little bit of sugar always went a long way to easing any situation. And far better that this rather tasty looking morsel believe he was toothless, at least, _for now_...

* * *

**_14th November, 1999_** **_- The Burrow, Ottery St Catchpole_**

"Now Harry dear, why don't you sit right here next to Ginny, hmm?" Molly suggested, beaming at the sight of her youngest and Harry Potter. How _well_, they looked together! If only he would forget all that nastiness about liking other boys. It was all well and good to have a phase; boys would be boys after all, but really! It was about time that _this_ boy faced up to his responsibilities and did his bit for the future of Wizard kind.

Of course, growing up without a Mother to guide him in life, it was no wonder he was so inept at taking care of himself and knowing his duty. Well, _she _was here now, and she would make sure he understood what he owed them all and lived up to it.

Goodness knows he couldn't be left on his own to brood and do disgraceful things with other wizards. Her Ginny was just the kind of girl he needed to straighten him out, and they could make beautiful babies together.

_Yes, _Molly decided, _that will do nicely. And, once they're married, we'll have a legitimate reason to spend his money. It wouldn't do at all to accept any now, but once he's family, well! There'll be no need for saving face then; he'd be morally obliged to help us. _

The Weasley Matriarch sat back in her chair, happy with her plans and looking forward to the results. _Now, _she thought to herself, _if I could just get rid of that nasty veela that Bill married..._

_

* * *

_

**_8th June, 1997_****_ – Headmaster's Office, _** **_Hogwarts_** **_School_****_ of Witchcraft and Wizardry. _**

"Now Harry, you know as well as I do that there are people out there who still wish you ill." Began the Headmaster, his expression stern.

"There's people here who wish me ill too." Harry muttered, his eyes straying to Severus Snape's ever present sneer. Harry saw it so often he had renamed it in his head as the 'Potter Sneer'. It had just a little extra upturn of the lips and a very slight growl to it that made him wonder if Snape had some angry cats in his ancestry.

"Yes, well, be that as it may, I must insist that you return to your relative's house for the summer. Now, while not entirely happy with the prospect, they have agreed to let you stay, provided you compensate them accordingly. They wish no less than five thousand pounds, which will be deducted from your vault." Dumbledore managed to regain his twinkle by the end of his speech and Harry frankly wanted to heave a brick at him.

"Sir, I will be seventeen in under two months. Voldemort is gone; I fail to see why I must return to the home of people who despise me. More than that, I despise them. I refuse to pay to live somewhere I hate. You will have to find another option." He tried to stay calm, but his temper was rising quickly. How dare this old man dictate his life!

"There is no other option, and as your magical guardian, it is my duty to see you are cared for properly. And since you are under age, I do not need your permission to take the money from your vaults if it is to pay for said care. True, you will be of age on your birthday, but until then, you _will do as I say!_" Through some effort of will the old goat managed to regain his genial temperament, at least, outwardly. "Do I make myself clear Harry?" He demanded, and Harry looked up at him.

If you were to ask him afterwards, Dumbledore would deny it, but just then, at that very moment when Harry looked at him, the old man was afraid. There was such an expression of loathing and contempt that he never expected to see on the face of one so young.

Perhaps he was making a mistake? Perhaps his ancestors had made a mistake too? But how could they? Their plan had worked, hadn't it? Harry was here and Voldemort was dead, so it had worked, right?

_

* * *

_

**_21st May, 2005_****_ – The Best Guest Room, Jareth's Castle._**

"Sire, the delegate from the Aboveground is here with the reports." A rather deferential goblin informed his liege, only sparing a brief glance for the being in the bed. His master seemed rather fascinated by the creature; evidence his seeming devotion by staying at his bedside all night while he slept. The goblin waited patiently for the King to answer his message.

"Right, right. Send him in." Jareth muttered absently, not having taken his eyes off the mortal. A mortal whom he was fast believing was no mortal at all. At least not in the same way as the others who plodded along Aboveground, so closed off in their minds and their view of the world.

Maybe this one had been burnt, just like him. It would explain the strange feeling of connection he felt whenever he gazed upon him.

"In here, you Majesty?" The messenger protested mildly. He had been in his liege's service for a long time, and so felt confident raising such a query without fear of rebuke.

"Yes, I do not trust this one enough to let him out of my sight. Send the fellow in." He repeated, and with a bow of deference, the servant was gone.

"Just who are you little morsel?" Jareth pondered aloud.

_

* * *

_

**_Unknown Time_****_ - Unknown Location_**

"DELLANDARIO!"

The councillors as one rose and ran out of the room, following the sound of the desperate cry to its source. When they arrived, they found the Queen lying stricken on the hard stone floor, her face ravaged by tears and twisted into a horrifying appearance of pain.

Standing before the Queen, was a man. A mortal. Someone they did not recognise or have any knowledge of. He was holding a blanket wrapped bundle in his arms, and was pointing a stick at the Queen. Breaking free of his shock, the King surged forwards to help his wife and stop this figure from hurting her, but before he could reach the mortal, it disappeared.

Faltering the King turned to his wife, and tried to comfort her, but she fought him, bashing her small fists against his arms.

"Enaberia, please, tell me you are well. What was that _thing _doing to you?" He pressed, trying to make some sense of this situation. But before she could answer, a gasp drew their attention to the horror that was yet to come.

"Y-Your Majesties, the royal crib...it's...it's _empty_!"

* * *

**_5th February, 2001_****_ – Ministry Processing Room, Ministry of Magic._**

"Sit down!" The Auror who had been dragging Harry along threw him none too gently into a seat which bared a disturbing resemblance to the electric chairs Harry had seen in muggle history books.

He really wasn't looking forward to this, but thanks to the repression potion they had force-fed him that morning, he didn't have access to his magic and so didn't fancy his chances at an escape. He might have been able to take down Voldemort, but he'd had help then, and his magic. Now, he was too weak, and too distraught to be any good to himself.

"_Nice one Potter. Where are your friends now? Where is Sirius? Or Remus? Or your parents?" _A voice, his own he fancied – though it did sound an awful lot like Draco Malfoy – taunted him in his head as he watched the Aurors prepare something.

Come to think of it, where _was _Remus? Surely the man didn't believe all that clap-trap about him going dark? Though it seemed the rest of Wizard kind did, despite the distinct lack of evidence.

So he hadn't got married.

Hadn't had any kids.

Didn't become an Auror, or a teacher or even a Quidditch player.

So he spent his time half in the muggle world and half in the Wizarding world.

So he went to a muggle night school and got his a-levels.

So he was in the middle of a Veterinary Medicine Degree.

So he liked boys.

Big deal! So what?

Where in all this was the proof that he was evil? That he should be vilified and ostracised by the rest of the world? Certain people believed there was. _Apparently, _they believed he should have ended the war sooner. That he just prolonged the world suffering by procrastinating.

_They _also believed he should sacrifice his own needs and wants for _their _sakes. Hadn't he already done that? Hadn't his _parents _and _Sirius _and _Cedric, and every other person who died at the hands of Voldemort and his followers!_

Had all their sacrifices been in vain? His parents had died so that he might live. Wasn't that what he was doing? Was there really anything wrong with being a Vet? Or gay? He wasn't hurting anyone. Hadn't he given up enough?

He was jerked out of his thoughts by a feeling of such intense pain that it brought back memories of the times he had been under Voldemort's wand. He cried out and was quickly silenced by one of the Aurors.

"Now, now Potter. Stop behaving like the pathetic little nancy boy we all know you are! This won't hurt much. Well, it won't hurt _us _much. Can't make any promises for you though."

Harry was chilled by how much this Auror's laughter sounded like the Death Eaters, the night of Riddle's rebirth.

* * *

**_21st May, 2005_**** – _The Best Guest Room, Jareth's Castle. _**

The person - and Jareth found he couldn't think of him in any other way - the person lying on the bed stirred, and scrunched his face up as if in pain. The Goblin King leapt to his feet, just as the mortal released a sharp cry, so intense it was! A low, keening wail that almost wrenched the fae's heart out of his chest. The cry told of pain, loss, sorrow and a grief so profound that the sometimes cruel man felt like he wanted to weep.

This one's soul was damaged, it seemed. But how? And why? A quick intake of breath that didn't come from him or his guest drew the King's attention to the door, and the goblin delegate from the Aboveground.

Ah, he had forgotten about that in the moment of this mortal's despair. Now he looked over this visiting subject of his with a curious eye, only to find his eyes were on the man in the bed. There was a flash of recognition and then the goblin turned to face his liege. Bowing, he spoke in a voice slightly hoarse with shock.

"Your Majesty. I am Griphook. I come bearing the tithes and missives from my Chief Ragnok." He said and Jareth nodded in acknowledgement. He took the papers which were offered, and banished them to his desk. Right now, he was _far _more interested in what this Griphook knew about his impromptu guest.

"Greetings Griphook. Welcome to the home of your ancestors. Tell me, what do you know about this…person?" He said, gesturing at the figure in the bed. The loud cries had stopped, but now the man was quietly sobbing, his body curled into a tiny ball, and a pillow clutched tightly to his chest. Despite all of this, it appeared however, that he was still asleep, or not quite conscious at least.

"My liege, that," Griphook gulped, feeling unaccountably nervous. "That is Harry Potter. He is a Goblin Friend. He is, or was, a Wizard, but he was exiled by his people for crimes against Wizard kind." He replied, glancing between his King and the magical world's saviour. Well, for those Aboveground at least.

"Really? 'Crimes against Wizard kind', hmm? Whatever did he do? He looks too small to be threatening." Jareth said with a slight smile, and Harry's first goblin friend also smiled toothily. There was no denying Harry Potter was short stuff.

"He saved them all from the self-styled Dark Lord Voldemort. Destroyed him where none of them could, and prevented their world from being swallowed by the darkness. After that, when he refused to conduct his life the way they wanted him to, they arrested him on some trumped up charges and stole his magic." Clearly the goblin was not impressed with the Wizards' treatment of their saviour.

Neither was Jareth. Inside, he was fuming. How dare they?! The gift of magic was not theirs to take! Not even he had the power to take it without facing dire consequences! He hissed angrily, a feral glint in his eyes.

They would get theirs, as the mortal saying went. They were fools if they believed the Fates would allow this to pass unpunished.

"Your Majesty, forgive my speaking out of turn, however, you should be aware that we've been keeping an eye on him, since we count him as friend. I'm afraid that since they bound his magic, his body has been slowly deteriorating. Our healers estimate that he has maybe two or three years, before it kills him. They have spent weeks looking for a solution, and we were to petition you if nothing was found before the end of this month. Now that I see him here, I must ask." The proud goblin sank to his knees. "Majesty, please, if it is in your power, will you help him? Heal him? He will be loyal to you, you have only to ask. He does not have an unfaithful bone in his body."

Jareth was again taken aback.

This Griphook belonged to a branch of his goblins which were far more clever and cunning than the ones who lived in the city below his castle. They seemed to have reached some higher level of consciousness than the local folk. They were a proud and war-like people. But they were intensely bright and extremely shrewd.

He'd never thought he would see one on his knees before him. They always showed the proper respect of course, but this...

A _very _long time ago, they had petitioned to be allowed to go Aboveground and seek out new ways of life, and new experiences. He had thought long and hard before granting their request and made sure to keep them and the goblins that remained close-knit.

That was why his person aide, who had shown Griphook in earlier, was more intelligent than most of his people who lived Underground. He was one of the Gringotts goblins who had been recommended to him by Chief Ragnok. All in all, it was a healthy relationship. He let Ragnok and his predecessors make nearly all of the decisions about the goblin nation not in his domain. In fact he believed he himself was a rather close kept secret of theirs, and he doubted any of those wizards had ever even heard his name, much less knew of his existence.

Well, any except this wizard of course.

Jareth glanced at him again. By the Stars! He was getting soft hearted in his old age. He would help this young man, this 'Harry'. He didn't have it in him to refuse one so obviously being torn apart inside. Harry…what an unsuitable name, for such a precious morsel. Maybe when he was feeling better, they could discuss a mutually beneficial relationship. That thought cheered the Goblin King up no end.

"Rise Griphook. I will grant your request. I will do everything in my power to help, though I do not at this time know what that might be. But rest assured, I will try. You may return to your Chief if you wish, however if he releases you, I ask that you return for a time, as your knowledge of this Harry might be useful." Griphook nodded eagerly to his King, grateful for the granting of his plea, and hastily left the room.

Jareth turned back to the bed, and steeling himself before he could change his mind, he placed a hand on Harry's head.

That was the last thing he knew, before darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter, Labyrinth or anything else you recognise. **

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! I didn't think anyone was going to like this. Apologies if this chapter feels rushed or there are many errors. If I went through the proof reading another time then you would have had to wait until tomorrow. So it was either or really. Still no sign of a beta. Anyone interested?**

** - Some dates were wrong - have changed them now -  
**

* * *

Chapter Three

* * *

_"As the pain sweeps through  
Makes no sense for you.  
Every thrill has gone  
Wasn't too much fun at all." _

* * *

**_22nd May, 2005_**** – _The Best Guest Room, Jareth's Castle. _**

With a sharp cry, Jareth staggered back from the bed, cradling his hand close to his chest as if burned. He was breathing heavily and every muscle in his body ached. He stumbled, spots appearing before his eyes, and would have ended up on the floor had someone not caught him.

"Your Majesty! You're awake!" Declared a relieved voice, slightly muffled as it was coming from behind him. He glanced around to try and find the owner of that voice, and saw it was one of his servants, Micha. She snapped her fingers and a comfortable chair appeared, and with her help he gratefully sat down.

"Awake you say, Micha? How long have I been out? I seem to recall touching Harry and then blackness." Jareth asked, his voice slow and weary. He let his senses expand and felt he had almost exhausted himself magically. It was coming back to him now.

He had gone into a trance when he had connected with Harry. His mind was almost detached from the physical world and for a moment, they had been one being, one heart. There was a lot of damage done to the wizard's body, and he had been much nearer to death than Griphook's healers had surmised.

Perhaps he had not been taking care of himself, or his melancholy had exacerbated his condition? Or maybe it was a combination of both? Jareth felt sure he would never know. But oh! How he wished he had not felt the absolute despair that this young man was harbouring in his soul. The Goblin King understood what it was to be alone. He should have had his mate, but he didn't. But he had his people, his kingdom to love and watch over.

This boy had started with nothing and everything that he had gained in life, had later been taken away from him. Even the very essence of what he was, had been stripped from his unwilling body. Jareth had enemies to be sure, but he never known betrayal of this magnitude.

He looked over at Harry, wondering if the release of his magic and the healing he himself had performed would show on the young man's face. Running his eyes over Harry's form, he started in surprise.

The man was hardly recognisable! In fact, he rather looked like…NO! He gasped aloud, half rising from his chair in shock.

It _couldn't_ be, could it?

It seemed that the release of the binding placed on him by the wizards had broken the tethers on more than just his magic.

* * *

**_31st March, 2001_****_ – Mind Healer Whistler's Office, St. Mungo's._**

"Everyone has a part to play Harry. You must play yours, you would be letting everyone down if didn't, can't you see that?" There was a pause while he waited for a response, before sighing and continuing his worthless tirade. Harry ignored him, and concentrated on blocking the insipid man's voice out of his head.

They were trying to reprogram him, to behave like their perfect model saviour. Be who they wanted him to be, and he would get his magic back, that was the deal.

They wanted to break him down and build him up again, the way they wanted him to be. And he wasn't going to let them. Or at least, he was going to do his damned best to make sure it didn't work. What this therapist didn't realise and what most of the wizarding, well actually _all _of the wizarding world _didn't _know, was that Occlumency was _not _a magical skill.

Legilimency was, or _is_, but Occlumency is not. Muggles were not aware of it, because in this modern, technological world, there are so many other things that did their thinking for them, and in the magical world even, that they lost part of themselves to the larger culture.

People trust that experts know what's good for them. If a friend tells you they think you're depressed and need to get some help, you might scoff and ignore them. But if a doctor does, then you listen. It's perfectly natural thing to do – they're a doctor, they've been trained to understand your needs and problems.

Advertisements, television programmes, newspaper articles, magazines, books, films, the internet – all have their own message, all trying to influence how you think, how you feel, what you say, how you live your life. One forgets one's own personal _power. _To just be you. Not one of a crowd, a group or a number.

This crossed over into all walks of life, muggle or magical. And that was why muggles and most wizards could not truly master Occlumency and understand its _true_ power or even it's real meaning. Even Snape hadn't really got it down pat – for he only saw it as a means to protect his mind from intrusions. But it was so much _more _than that, and yet, absurdly simple.

It is merely the knowledge of one's own mind, and the strength of it once you have awoken it.

And Harry had done just that. When he stopped listening to all the scorn and abuse from Snape, when he shut out all the sickeningly saccharine tripe from Dumbledore, when he forgot his so-called friends, family, when he pushed everyone out, he found _him. _

Himself.

_Harry. _

His own uniqueness, his fears, his beliefs, his dreams. His loves and hates, his experiences and the way they had shaped who he really was. For the first time in his life, no matter how unhappy he was, he didn't _want_ to go back and change things, because if he did, he would lose the person he was _now_. And though he was in pain, mired in sorrow for his friend's abandonment, he had still fallen in love with his own _soul. _

And there was no way in _Hell_ he was going to let this bastard or anyone else take that away!

So he had to be careful, immerse himself in his own consciousness so that his subconscious and waking mind flowed seamlessly together. If he didn't, there was a chance this man would be able to speak to his subconscious mind and begin to change it - the same way a muggle hypnotist might.

Frankly, the whole thing was extremely tiring – blocking the man out whilst trying to appear normal.

Harry could only hope he got better with practice, because he didn't see the Ministry and everyone else giving up any time soon, and he didn't think that even if he agreed to give up his magic permanently that they would leave him alone. No, they wanted him to be theirs, theirs to control.

Sometimes he woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, the fear and the horror of what evil still existed in the world, cloaked in the appearance of kindness, and respectability. After all, patterning your life around other's opinions is nothing more than slavery.

* * *

**_24th May, 2005_****_ – The Sunniest Parlour, King Dellandario and Queen Enaberia's Palace. _**

"Mother?" Questioned the young woman sitting by the window as she heard her mother's quick intake of breath. She turned to see what was happening and worried at the sight of her mother's pale face. "Mother?" She repeated questioningly. Queen Enaberia seemed to shake herself from her state of shock and looked to her daughter.

"Daughter, I…" She paused to gather herself and thrust the parchment she was holding towards the other woman, all the while turning a crystal sphere over and over in her hands. Princess Caredessi looked down at the parchment and frowned. It was from Jareth, the Goblin King.

She smiled faintly as she thought of him. She had always liked Jareth, for there was a time when she had been promised as his bride. She did not know him very well, but everything she did know she had admired. But it was not to be. She had gone through her maturity and found her True Mate. He was one of her father's elite guards, and every Avariel knows that one cannot fight the call of one's True Mate.

So she had been married to her love, Elalaeryn, many years now. And as for Jareth, well he had been betrothed to her younger brother, Elessar. But that was also not to be. For Elessar had been stolen! Stolen by some greedy mortal! They had tried to find him, Oh! How they had tried. But it was in vain.

He had been gone for nearly two hundred Earth years.

Her Mother and Father did not have the heart to have any more children once Elessar had been taken from them, and the Kingdom had mourned along with them. Her only other sibling was also a brother, Talemario. And he was the oldest, the Crown Prince. So he could not be the one to marry the Goblin King and cement the alliance that had always existed between his lands, and their home: _Faenya-Dail._

To make matters worse, another Seer had predicted that Jareth could only marry one of King Dellandario's children or the entire Underground may suffer. Caredessi silently believed that Seer's should just keep their mouths shut, instead of worrying the whole population unnecessarily.

What would be, would be. There was no truer text.

But the Seer _had _spoken, and the Wise Ones of all the races had met to make a plan. What they had decided was that Elessar had to be found, and brought back, but that he had been in the mortal realm for some time now and would need to be led, lest he fail to believe in the existence of the Underground.

So a book was created. A book which would be an instrument of Destiny. It would lead Elessar back to his home, and back to his family. It was an innocuous looking thing, this book. And it was called, '_The Labyrinth_'.

They could only hope that some_how, _some_way_, Elessar would find it and come home. It was a small hope, but short of tearing the mortal realm apart twig by twig, they didn't have any other. They didn't even know _who _had taken him, so they had no place to begin a conventional search.

But now, here was Jareth, with surprising news. An Avariel was in his care, and one who had not been an Avariel when he arrived. So very strange. He advised them to look into the sphere to see more. Could this be their Elessar? Come home _at last_? Or was that too much to hope for?

* * *

**_22nd May, 2005_**** – _The Best Guest Room, Jareth's Castle. _**

A whimper from the bed drew the attention of the goblin that the King had left to watch over Harry Potter. He had wanted to be there himself, but as well as healing and regaining his own strength, he had matters of state to attend to.

Having been out for an entire day, the people with petitions had started to line up a bit, and he needed to sort them out before had time to worry about the winged elf who had taken the place of the wizard he had brought into his castle.

And that was the most shocking thing of all.

Gone was the emaciated body, the slowly decaying shell which held the bruised and broken heart of the young man. In its place was a full-blooded Avariel, with wings the colour of a thunderstorm, and hair like a streak of lightening. It still had some of the black in it though, and his eyes were still the same emerald green...and still just as jarring. But his entire physiology had changed. And what's more, he was healthy.

Clearly, more than his wizard magic had been blocked at some time, and his natural magic had been interfered with in some way, though the King didn't know how as yet. All he knew was that it seemed overjoyed to be released and was overacting at the moment. Being in the room with him was somewhat akin to being dazzled by a thousand suns.

He was starting to understand what people meant when they spoke of a 'force of nature'. Mortals didn't know the half of it. That was exactly what Harry was. Though he had suspicions that Harry was _not _the name he was born with. He didn't think any of the Avariel had ever even heard the name before.

But that still didn't tell him just who this young man, well, young _elf _actually was. Or whom he belonged to. Did he have family? Was anyone missing him?

_Those _kind of thoughts were what drove him to send a message to Faenya-Dail. Hopefully his long time friends Dellandario and Enaberia would be able to shed some light on the matter. Probably a lot more than that in fact, since he rather reminded Jareth of his former fiancé, Caredessi. And, if that was the case, then this little morsel was _his._

More than that, he had been _his_ since the day he was born.

☼

Harry gradually forced his eyes open, wondering why he was so fuzzy and out of it. He seemed to be rather hazy about a few things in fact. Like where the hell was he? What day was it even? The last thing he remembered was the river...and the book…the book! The Goblin King…

"Jareth?" He said, and it was a question. A timid voice answered him.

"Lisha is just getting him sir!" Squeaked someone from the other side of the room, and then Harry heard the door opened and hurriedly closed. With nothing better to do, he tried to stretch, finding every single limb ached like the devil. He felt like he'd been through the washing machine and then wrung out to dry. Not exactly a pleasant sensation.

As he moved, he noticed the rather large appendages he had definitely _not _had before he went to sleep, and he was ashamed to admit he screamed like a girl. Though, he would deny it if questioned later...

☼

"AAAARRRRGGHHHH! WINGS!? I HAVE FUCKING WINGS?! JAAAARREEETTTH!"

The Goblin King looked up from the letter he had received from one of his emissaries in the Dwarven Kingdom, and smiled at the sheer horror in the voice of his visitor. It always was best to let people discover things like this for themselves, as it made sure that you weren't in the firing line for their initial reaction. Chuckling to himself he laid aside his correspondence and conjured a sphere to show him Harry's room.

The young man _did _look rather distraught, though that did seem to fade a little every time he twitched his new limbs. When he began running his hands over the feathers, Jareth shifted uncomfortably in his chair. For some reason best known to his incomprehensible psyche, he didn't want anyone to touch those wings but _him._ Not even the owner of said wings.

"_How...unnerving." _He confessed silently to himself. Well, there was nothing for it. The rage appeared to have died down somewhat, though he did not kid himself that it might be born anew when he went to speak to the lad. However, the longer he left it, he felt sure the worse it would be.

"A coward turns away, but a brave man's choice is danger." He muttered as he made his way to the guest rooms, banishing the sphere as he walked along the corridor. Stopping outside the right door, he paused to take a deep breath, and then knocked. Not bothering to wait for an affirmative answer, he let himself in and stopped to admire the sight of his maybe mate, the vista much more appealing now that he was awake and kneeling on the bed.

"Greetings, Mr Potter." He murmured, and Harry's head shot round to face him, disbelief evident in his expression.

"How do you know who I am? Wait, don't tell me! You're the Goblin King. Of course you would know. Well, would you mind explaining these?" He demanded, jerking a thumb over his shoulder to indicate his feathered friends.

"I would love to explain, _Harry_, if I understood, but it is to my deepest regret that I do not. I have suspicions, but nothing, how do you say? Ah, concrete. Yes, nothing concrete. Never fear however, I have sent for those I believe may be your kin, so you shall have your answers soon. In the meantime, may I?" Jareth gestured to his wings, and it took Harry a moment to understand what he was asking, so distracted was he, by the mention of kin.

Kin? That meant family, right? So, did he have family left? He tramped down on that thought, it would not do him any good to get his hopes up, just to have them dashed like they always were. What had Jareth asked him? Something about his wings?

When he finally realised what the other man meant, he just nodded dumbly and watched with a cautious frown, not really sure of what said other man intended to do. He was both alarmed and intrigued by the feral smile lit the fae's face as soon as he had given his consent.

He could not suppress the shiver of pleasure that swept up his back when the first touch slid across his wings. The feathers were so soft, he knew, for he had only felt them himself but moments before. But it hadn't felt like this when it was his own hands on them. Now, as the Goblin King placed another hand on him, and ran it up and across his whole span, he felt like he wanted to melt into a puddle.

He could not stop himself from letting out a long contented moan, and was slightly miffed when Jareth laughed softly.

"Do, aaahhh, do you think…I'm f-funny then J-Jareth?" He managed to get out between gasps as the feeling grew more intense.

"No my dear, I do not. I just, could not help myself I suppose." Seeing what his ministrations were doing and deciding that, as satisfying as it was and would be to let this reach its natural conclusion, at lot more was potentially at stake here. He took a step back and let his hands drop from the elf's wings, ignoring the belligerent press of his mating instincts that screamed at him to get right back to what he had been doing.

That in itself was reason to believe that _this _young man was his missing Elessar. But how could that be? Since he had been born and raised as a wizard. Griphook had told him he could produce documentary and photographic evidence to support this, and the fact that this man/elf/wizard, _whatever_, was a mere twenty four earth years old. And Elessar had been missing for _two hundred_ earth years.

"W-Why did you stop, don't you, um, don't you like them, or, um, me?" Harry asked in a quiet voice, not really understanding why he was asking such a question. It wasn't like him to be so brazen, yet every part of him was screaming to get closer to this person. He had felt the first spark of attraction when he had opened his eyes to see Jareth for the first time. Now it had only grown stronger and his body wanted this man, and damned well wanted him now!

"Don't think that, don't think that at all! Though I hardly know you, I want you very much, very much indeed. But I believe we should talk, the least of which would be about your transformation, and the most important thing would be, why did you call for me to take you away?" Jareth knew some of this from Griphook, but even his Gringotts subjects did not know all that was going on with this young man.

Having joined with him briefly during the healing Jareth believed he understood already much of what Harry might have to say, but that didn't make listening to it any less important.

☼

Harry paused, fighting down his arousal so that he could think clearly. Why did he call for the Goblin King to take him away? His life wasn't great by any stretch of the imagination, but he had had his work. And he loved helping animals, right?

He admitted that he _did _love his work, but it wasn't enough anymore. He wanted a life! A life filled with love and family, warm welcoming smiles and hot summer nights. Real feelings, not just this empty, pain filled void. And he had given up, he realised, given up on ever finding it in his own world. So the idea that some mysterious creature could take him away from all this, to a world where the wizards had no control over him, was just too tempting.

"I was trying to escape." He confessed, and Jareth nodded slowly.

"I thought as much. Harry, I must confess, I probably know more about you than you might be comfortable with. It is strange however, since I would not normally care for the feelings or trust of those I bring to my Labyrinth, but you are not one of them. You are special." When Harry looked confused, Jareth moved closer and sat next to him on the bed.

"I'm not special Jareth…" The newly-born elf protested, not able to meet the fae's eyes. The Goblin King, placed a gentle hand on Harry's cheek and turned his head round to face him.

"But you _are_ special Harry. When you first arrived here, you were ill. Your body was giving up, and you were slowly dying. One of my subjects begged me to heal you, and I did. He didn't really need to beg me, I wanted to do it already, myself. I'm afraid that the healing required us to join briefly, and so I have shared many of your experiences. As such, I _understand_ what has been happening to you. What the last seven or eight years have been like. So I _know_, Harry." His eyes showed an ageless wisdom, the playfulness momentarily forgotten.

"I wasn't asking you to take me away." He murmured, his gaze still locked with the King's.

"You were calling for me to rescue you." Jareth said, and it wasn't a question.

"Yes." Harry agreed, his voice choked with emotion.

Not able to suppress his instincts this time, Jareth gave in, and pressed his lips to the oh-so soft ones in front of him. Harry too, was caught up in the moment, and silently wondered how anything could ever feel so right, so natural.

His wings fluttered and moved to surround both of them, cocooning them in soft warmth. It matched the way both men were feeling and they exchanged slow, languid kisses. Neither was sure who moved first, but before either realised it, they fell back on the bed, their bodies entwined, all cares forgotten for the moment.

Harry pushed the King away for the moment, his foggy mind wanting to try and puzzle out what was happening, chafing at the delay posed by this temptation. But his heart, well, his heart was a different matter.

It didn't know what it wanted per se, but it _did_ know it was enjoying this very much, and that worrying about what was happening and what had already happened to him was something best left for later. Later, when he didn't have this tempting creature poised above him.

Not his wisest decision perhaps, but look what playing it safe for the last seven years had got him? Nothing, that was what! And despite realising that he was moving too fast, too soon, every instinct in his newly awakened body was clamouring to be devoured by this delectable fellow, and really, who could blame him?

Seeing the thoughts flow across the young elf's face, Jareth smiled with satisfaction when he saw the surrender to pleasure in his eyes. They definitely needed more talking, but he felt justified in giving Harry what he _really_ deserved. And right then, he felt a _proper_ greeting was in order.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter or Labyrinth, or anything else you recognise. **

**A/N: I am _so _tired! I had an interview today for a new job and couldn't sleep last night as I was so nervous. Here is the next chapter. Not as long as I would like, but there we are. Also, I've only read it over once for errors. So apologies for that.**

**Thanks for all the reviews! You guys make my day so much happier! **

* * *

Chapter Four

* * *

_"I'll paint you mornings of gold  
I'll spin you Valentine evenings  
Though we're strangers till now  
We're choosing the path between the stars  
I'll leave my love between the stars."_

* * *

**_23rd May 2005_****_ – The Best Guest Room, Jareth's Castle_**

Jareth woke slowly, stretching his limbs tightly as he forced the last remnants of sleep from his body. His muscles protested loudly at such treatment, stiff as they were from the night before. And _Oh! What a night_…

He had been worried that this was too much, too soon for the young man, but Harry had laughed and reminded him that he was twenty four years old, and hardly a modest virgin. Then he proceeded to show the Goblin King just how handy his experience over the years had been. And Jareth had loved every minute of it.

Feeling movement beside him, he turned to see Harry was awake with his head propped up on one arm, looking down into his eyes. Unaccustomed emotions welled up in his chest, things he had not felt for a very long time. His heart, which he had long believed had turned to ice, was beginning to thaw. It was both a heady and disturbing feeling, and by the Stars! He was blushing!

"What's this? The Almighty Powerful Goblin King is blushing? All sweet and bashful like a young maiden plucked in early spring." Harry's mouth moved closer to the other man's ear, and his lips lightly brushed the soft lobe. "The flush looks good on your skin, _Your Majesty._ Shall I check and see just how far down it goes?" He murmured, nuzzling his face in the junction between Jareth's neck and shoulder, all the while his hand moving lower, lower and _lower. _Until…

"Unghh…_Harry…_" Jareth groaned, memories of the night before flashing through his mind and his body responding accordingly. This wasn't the way it was meant to be, was it? _He_ was the King, the strong one, surely he should be the one doing the teasing, and the stroking, and the…_Oh! _

"Don't stop…please…_don't stop_…"

☼

Much later, and at a _much_ more decent time to be up and about, the pair were just that – up and about. The Kingdom would not run itself, and while Jareth would like nothing better than to lounge around in bed all day with Harry, he simply had things he _must _see to. So, he had given the man the run of the castle and left him to his own devices, with one warning: not to go into the Labyrinth just yet. He promised to teach Harry all its secrets, but right now, it was just too dangerous.

Since that mortal had run the Labyrinth all those years ago, it had become even more wild and unmanageable. Jareth had lost interest in it after she had refused him and he had been freed from the compulsion laid on him by the book. At first he'd been relieved; relieved that he was not now tied to someone who wasn't his intended. He could have married Sarah Williams and been none the wiser until _after_ the wedding, and then where would his Kingdom be?

That raised an important question, Jareth decided, seated at his desk reading through more mind numbing boring petitions and correspondence. How did that mortal get hold of the book when it was never intended for her in the first place? And what made her think it was about _her? _It had always been about Elessar.

_Elessar._

Was it Harry? Was Harry _him?_ After last night, and this morning, he was beginning to think so. No! More than that, he was beginning to _hope_ so. Because after only one night and one morning in his arms, Jareth wasn't sure he wanted to let him go.

And if he wasn't his Elessar, then he couldn't be his Harry either.

☼

"Who be you, and what be you doin' runnin' round _his_ place?"

Harry was momentarily startled by the rough voice, so like Hagrid that it took him back to his days at Hogwarts, and he felt a pang in his chest. A pang for what might have been, had his friends and the rest of the world not found him to be such a disappointment. Pushing that away for a moment, and fluttering his wings without noticing it, he turned to face the one who addressed him.

It, or _he,_ was a dwarf. Gnarled and slightly dirty looking, he had a cranky expression and various trinkets dangling from a chain attached to his waist. Harry wondered if he was truly annoyed or if he just looked like that all the time. Though, judging from the tone of his voice, he just seemed to not like people. Or maybe it was elves? Because he was an elf now, right? An _Avariel_. That's what Jareth had said.

Suddenly overcome everything that had happened since he'd picked up that book, Harry abruptly sank to the ground, and stared.

"Now then, you, see, I didn' mean fer you to be fallin' down an' such." The dwarf said, wringing his hands a little and looking around warily, as if he expected something to pop out at him.

"S'alright." Harry murmured. "It's just; I don't _know_ who I am. Well, not really. See, I thought I was one thing, and then I'm told I'm something else. Then when I get sorta used to that, they take that away. Then I'm something new. And now, when I got used to that as well, p_oof! _I'm something different again." He paused and the dwarf looked at him funny. Harry didn't really pay any attention though, since he was pretty much thinking out loud and seemed to have forgotten the fellow was there at all.

"Right then." The dwarf said, when it appeared no other strange ramblings would be forthcoming from the bizarre elf in front of him. Not knowing what else to do, he took a step closer and cautiously extended a hand. "Name's Hoggle." He said, and waited.

"Harry Potter. Pleased to meet you." The elf said with a smile, shaking his hand with gusto.

"Odd name fer an elf." Hoggle muttered.

* * *

**_14th October, 2003_****_ – PDSAPetAidHospital_** **_Salisbury_**

"I must say I'm surprised. Usually the graduates only want to start up their own practices or sign on to established surgeries. You realised the pay here will be substantially _less_ than what you could get in private practice?"

Harry was unperturbed at this. The last thing he wanted was to make _more_ money. He was already rich beyond his wildest imaginings. Not that he could touch any of it, of course. But that just made him want this job even more. All his money had ever got for him, was trouble.

He had graduated with a first in a five year BVetMed course at the Royal Veterinary College - part of the University of London. It had been difficult, that was for sure. But it was great to have such a foundation in theory and then a lot of hands-on experience, guided by people who were experts in their field. Most of the people on his course had secured lucrative positions, but his job hunting, had led him here: to the PDSA.

The PDSA was a charity founded in 1917, and was coming up to ninety years of caring for sick animals. What was so important about it, was that the veterinary services were free. This meant that the poorest people, who had the most trouble forking out for vet fees, could get help for their pets when they needed it, and fewer animals had to suffer unnecessarily.

To Harry, it felt like the right thing to do, not just for the animals, but for him too. Lately he had been feeling the need to remind himself that the things his former friends had said about him, weren't true.

He wasn't selfish, or evil, money grabbing or dark. He was a nice, normal, average guy, who happened to have a lot thrust on him by Fate, and the wizarding world. There wasn't much more to it than that. So, despite the incredulity of some of the more mercenary blokes on his course, he was going to work here, for a fraction of the salary most of them would be on. Because he wanted to, and by God, because it made him feel good about himself – something which was getting to be a bit rare these days. Degree notwithstanding of course.

"I must say, it's quite a _coup _for us, to get someone from the RVC. But don't think that means you won't be getting your hands dirty!" The nurse who was showing him round said firmly. Harry smiled disarmingly.

"Wouldn't dream of it." He replied.

* * *

**_30th August, 1996_****_ – Diagon Alley, _** **_London_**

"Hey! Watch out!" Harry shouted, as people carelessly walked past the huddled creature on the ground. He wasn't really sure what it was yet, but it was a _someone_, thus it did _not_ deserve all the wizards and witches which kept stumbling over it, and not even bothering to check and see what it was, or whether it needed help.

He made his way swiftly over the figure wrapped in bloodied rags, and snarled at the passers by who stopped to watch him. So _now_ they were interested, but not before? What was it about the Wizarding world which made them appear so oblivious to the plight of anyone other than themselves? Sometimes, he believed they had an even more narrow world view than the Nazis.

He realised he was being rather unfair, but having just had to listen to a truck load of vicious garbage from his potions professor – before being allowed to come here and do his shopping – he wasn't feeling all that positive about his fellow witches and wizards.

Just how did Dumbledore manage to keep the bastard employed at the school anyway? Oh, he knew he had his _reasons_, Merlin only knew Harry had to listen to those _reasons_ again, and again, as if they were some kind of justification for Snape behaving like a petulant child and throwing all the toys out of his pram on a disturbingly regualr basis.

From the old man's point of view, it was down to _Harry_ to act mature, it was _Harry _who would have to compromise, never mind that _Snape_ was the adult and so should be the one to behave thusly. No, it seemed that everyone thought _he _was the one who should change his behaviour.

He silently believed that he could not be the only one who had been victimised and bullied by the greasy bastard over the years, and some parents _must_ have written to Dumbledore or McGonagall to complain. So why was the git still working there?

Perhaps a few well chosen Pensieve memories sent to the school board at _just _the right time, with a query into whether this was the standard of teaching that Hogwarts encouraged, would prove fruitful? Even if all Snape ended up with was a good telling off it would be worth it. But no, Harry sighed to himself, he had the war and all that bollocks to think about first. Maybe if he survived? Yeah, that thought warmed his heart no end.

Crouching over the huddled form, he slowly peeled back the rag to expose whatever it was, and gasped in surprise. It was a goblin! And he was in pretty bad shape too!

Harry searched his pockets frantically for a healing potion, and then stopped. What if it was poisonous to the goblin? He didn't know anything about their physiology. He hastily looked around and spotted the Gringotts sign. Yes! They would know what to do! But should he move him? Would that be worse than just leaving him there and coming back with help? He paused, trying to think of what would be best.

"What are you fussing over? It's just a _goblin_." Some old wizard grumbled, and Harry glared at him.

"He's not _just a goblin_, he's a person. And he's hurt. I was just debating whether or not to move him, but I can see now it would be much worse to leave him here, if the likes of _you_ are nosing around." Harry said, a tad nastily, but as with earlier, he _really _wasn't feeling all that in harmony with his fellow wizards right now.

Picking the fellow up as gently as possible, Harry carried him towards the bank, wrapping him in his cloak, for despite it being August, it was rather a cold day.

When he got through the main doors, he began shouting, not caring one whit about the customers or their business.

"Help! Someone help me here! I have an injured goblin who requires immediate attention!" Harry yelled, hoping he wasn't upsetting the poor fellow. But other than a slight shift, he showed no signs of further deterioration.

Four goblins came running at his cry, and hurriedly tried to relieve Harry of his precious burden.

"No, I think it's better not to jostle him. He seems OK where he is for now. Show me where I should take him." He ordered, shocking the goblins who had come to meet him, and most of the customers who were within earshot as well.

He followed the Gringotts employees through a side door and down various passageways, until they reached a room that must be some kind of infirmary. He identified it by its smell, since all hospitals seem to smell the same, regardless of where they are or who runs them. After rather a lot of fussing, he deposited the wounded fellow on a bed, and backed away so they could work on him. Minutes later he was ushered out with some of the goblins who had led him there, and told to wait.

Much as he might want to, he couldn't wait however, as he only had an hour before he was due to meet the Order. Making his apologies, he was taken back to the main hall by a rather familiar face.

"Griphook?" He questioned, and was rewarded with the usual toothy smile.

"I am honoured Mr Potter, that you remember me. And you honour us by carrying one of our own in your arms like he was your equal." Griphook said, and Harry frowned.

"Like he was my equal? What do you mean? Of course he's my equal! You're no less of a person than I am, you're just...different. No better or worse. Who is he anyway? Do you know how he was hurt? I'm sorry I didn't give him any potions or anything, but I was worried they might be toxic. I know so little of your people." He confessed, frustrated with his lack of knowledge.

"You are full of surprises Mr Potter. There are not many who would share your beliefs, but it makes me glad that you feel that way. As for that goblin, he is Galbak, son of Ragnok – the Head Goblin. A rather reckless youth I am afraid. He was attacked while on some jaunt of his, and we despaired of ever seeing him again. You have done us a great service, Mr Potter. I am sure that after this, Ragnok will name you a Goblin Friend – for that is what you are." Griphook stopped briefly to bow to the astonished wizard, and, not knowing what else to do, Harry bowed back.

* * *

**_24th May, 2005_****_ – The Kind and Queen's Suite, their Palace, Faenya-Dail. _**

"Enaberia! Please! Be reasonable! We must talk about this first – this is not the time to be making rash decisions!" Dellandario pleaded with his wife, but to no avail. She had seen this visitor of Jareth's in the sphere he had sent, and she was _convinced_ it was their lost Elessar. Regardless of the fact that that was practically impossible, she had made up her mind. And now, she was packing various items and was intending to make for Jareth's castle with all due haste.

It wasn't like he didn't believer her. Oh! How he wanted to believe it was true! His baby son, alive! After so many years of searching…

He had never forgotten that day, that terrible day when his youngest child was stolen from them. His whole Kingdom had grieved along with him and his family. But it had cut Enaberia to the quick, more than anyone else. She had carried him, nursed him – he had been born of her body. Such separation was so very damaging to the Avariel, especially when it was separating a parent from their child. Children were so few, and so sacred amongst their people, that every single one was cherished.

It had taken time, a long, long time, for them to come to terms with what they had lost. But they could not allow themselves to drown in their sorrow, for they had two other children to care for, two children who missed their brother very much, though he had only been with them for such a short time.

Dellandario was immensely proud of his Talemario and Caredessi. They were wonderful people, and Talemario would be a great leader when the time came.

He paused, glancing at his wife as she continued to pack with a fierce determination not to be swayed from her chosen course. Perhaps the time for Talemario to take the reins had come? At least, temporarily. Who knew how long they might be detained with the Goblin King?

"Dearest…" He began, not at all pleased with the slight flinch of her shoulders. "Enaberia, I agree, we must go. Talemario can take care of things here for us. You were right. We have to know, if it is truly him, we have to know and understand. And we have to help him learn who he really is, show him his family and tell him how much we love him. I do worry that we are getting our hopes up for nothing, but you are right. It must be done." He admitted quietly, and the Queen slumped in relief.

"Caredessi and Elalaeryn should accompany us." Enaberia said softly, and her husband nodded.

"I will assemble an escort. Pray to the Winds. If they are amenable, we will be there by nightfall."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter, Labyrinth or anything else you recognise.**

**A/N: This is the un-beta'd version. I'll post a revision when I receive the chapter back from my beta! Thanks to everyone for all the reviews, I hope I can continue to make this story enjoyable for everyone. **

* * *

Chapter Five

* * *

_"Life can be easy  
It's not always swell  
Don't tell me truth hurts, little girl  
'cause it hurts like hell."_

* * *

**_23rd May, 2005_****_ – Head Goblin Ragnok's Office, Gringotts._**

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Ragnok said, glancing over the reports from various subordinates that had been piling up on his desk all day – _must get a better assistant_, he mentally reminded himself – to look at a seal he rarely saw these days. "King Jareth? Now what might you have to say for yourself I wonder?" He murmured, unrolling the parchment and reading the letter from his sovereign.

* * *

"_Greetings Ragnok, _

_I would write all the usual platitudes and ritual addresses, however I have neither the time nor feel the inclination for such pomp and ceremony. Let me assure you, this is no kind of portent of any change in the situation of you and your people. Your current autonomy is suitable for both of us and I have no wish to change it. That is not the reason I am writing to you, so rest easy old friend. _

_My reason for contacting you is of a more personal nature – not as a monarch to one of his subjects, but as a man to his friend. I believe Griphook must have told you of the arrival of a young mortal into my realm? I cannot imagine that you are ignorant of this fact, so I will impart to you the circumstances which have occurred since his tenure here in the Underground began. _

_For one thing, he was gravely ill when he arrived. In fact his body was on the verge of shutting down completely, so damaging has the binding of his magic been. I believe the one who performed the binding did not take the proper care to ensure there would be no lasting damage, and can only hazard a guess as to their reasons. _

_Griphook informed me of the identity of my visitor – one Harry James Potter, a wizard. He also told me of Mr Potter's status of a Goblin Friend and he himself has advised me of the facts around how that came about. He is still somewhat bashful over the whole affair, and still in denial that he did anything out of the ordinary. But that is the way he is, and from what I can perceive so far, I think that that is the way he will always be. I dread to think what kind of trauma could kill that part of him, and am amazed that the betrayal of his associates has not done so already. _

_What Griphook is unaware of, and so similarly are you, is that Mr Potter is not a wizard. He is not even human. During my healing I unlocked more than the bind on his wizarding powers, though those have been somewhat negated in the process. He is in fact an elf, more specifically, one of the Avariel who inhabit my Underground. _

_I am sure you are as shocked as I was to learn of this, but I assure you, it is true. What is even more surprising, is that he bares a striking resemblance to a family whose child was stolen nearly two hundred of your earth years ago. I do not see how this is possible, but these are the facts. I have sent to Faenya-Dail – the Avariel city – to see if answers can be found. I do not know what may happen, but Enaberia (their Queen), was ever impetuous in her youth. I have a feeling that she will arrive here within hours of receiving my message. _

_I hope the meeting is fruitful, but on that subject I can say no more than that. _

_Aside from any advice that you might offer, I would like to ask a favour. As an Avariel, regardless of his name or family, Mr Potter is now one of my subjects. However, I believe that as he was Harry Potter when he inherited his estates, they still belong to him despite his change. Is this correct? I am afraid that I am ignorant of some of the finer points of Aboveground law and regulations. _

_If this is so, then perhaps you could begin the process of unfreezing Mr Potter's assets and sending down any of his personal items? I will confer with him to ask if there is anything specific he would like done with the money, or if he would like it added to a vault within your establishment here. _

_I thank you in advance for your help Ragnok. May fortune always smile on you and your family, _

_Jareth _

* * *

Ragnok was taken aback. 

Never had he received such an informal letter from his King! Not that he actually had much correspondence with Jareth, the fae tended to leave him alone as long as he was running things Aboveground efficiently. In fact Ragnok had always been rather intrigued with the legends surrounding his eons old monarch, and when he ascended into his current office, he had sent overtures to said King, to try and get to know him a little. He had met with limited success at first, but gradually, over time, he had established a good working relationship with the fae.

Even so, he letters were usually straightforward, and to the point, sometimes verging on cold and aloof. But this…this was different. He chuckled slightly as he reread a few lines.

Perhaps young Mr Potter had healed Jareth just as much as Jareth had healed him. It _would _be rather like him after all.

* * *

**_14th November, 1999_** **_- The Burrow, Ottery St Catchpole _**

Harry stumbled to the side, losing his balance slightly as he tried to walk along the landing to the bathroom. His head was so foggy! He knew he had been working hard lately, as his coursework for his Biology A-level was due in a few weeks, but still…He didn't think he'd neglected himself _this_ much.

He paused, leaning against the wall and rubbing a hand across his eyes in an attempt to clear them. What was the matter with him? He hadn't drunk anything, as he had to be at college early tomorrow, and he had avoided any of the richer foods, since his stomach just couldn't take them.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, hands grabbed him and dragged him off to the side.

He was pulled through a doorway, his shoulder scraping the frame, making it ache and sting. He was likely to have a nasty bruise there in the morning, but whoever had hold of him didn't seem to notice or care. He was pushed down onto a bed, and someone started ripping at his clothes.

"N-NOOOO!" He yelled, incoherently.

A whisper of sound followed, and then he couldn't make any noise at all.

His mind was still cloudy but his instincts were still intact, and they were screaming that whatever was happening, he didn't want it. So he fought, tooth and nail, not giving whoever it was time to go for their wand again.

He was tiring quickly however, as whatever was affecting his brain was taking its toll. He wouldn't give up though, and was trying to break through the haze in his mind to think of ways to escape. He didn't even register that this was the home of his best friend, and so he should be _safe._ Shouldn't need to escape.

A shout echoed somewhere nearby, and the person who was holding him stilled instantly. Harry didn't though, and he used this chance to push them off him and run out of the room. He couldn't see where he was going exactly, he just headed towards the lights coming from downstairs. He half ran, half fell down the stairs and was out the door in seconds, ignoring the cries of protest from the people gathered there, and sped off into the night.

* * *

**_23rd May 2005_****_ – Near the Entrance to the Labyrinth, _** **_Goblin_****_City_**

"Now ye don't want to be going in _there._ It's not so good these days. Ever since _Sarah. _Well, the King, he don't be paying so much _attention_, like." Hoggle said, looking at the doorway with equal parts fear and distaste. Harry shuddered at little when he looked over the giant maze. It reminded him too much of the Third Task, and Cedric's death.

It was funny that, no matter how much time passed, some things he just couldn't get over. The death of Cedric Diggory was one of those things. The injustice, the unfairness, the sheer _sadness_ of it, still haunted him to this day.

Damn it! Cedric was someone he had looked up to! Sure, there was that thing with Cho Chang, but he hadn't really been all that serious about her. But Cedric, he was one of the few who treated him like a _person_, and not some icon or figurehead. And to see him there, dead, lifeless eyes staring at the dark sky…it still made him wake up in a cold sweat, even if it was more than a decade ago.

"I think you're right absolutely right Hoggle, I definitely _do not _want to go in there." He replied, not noticing the startled jump from the gnarled old dwarf when Harry got his name right. Had he realised this, he would have also realised that he'd now made himself a new friend.

His eyes still on the Labyrinth, Harry's mind posed a question about something the dwarf had said. "Hoggle, who is Sarah?"

* * *

**_14th November, 1999_** **_- The Burrow, Ottery St Catchpole _**

"What the bloody hell do you think you are doing!?!"

The shout from upstairs made the people who had just been staring at the kitchen door jump, and turn their attention to the direction of the sound. There were a few muffled noises and then they could clearly hear someone stomping down the stairs. A second set of footsteps followed, and the same voice which had just yelled started up again.

"Don't you dare walk away from me! I asked you a question! Now tell me what you think you were doing with Harry! Go on! Answer me!"

There was real anger contained in that voice, and the people at the table exchanged worried glances, though not all for the same reasons. Before anyone could comment, two people burst into the kitchen. One was clearly angry and the other was trying to maintain a cool exterior. It was working, to a point, but to those who knew her well, the cracks were showing.

"Well? Are you going to answer? Or perhaps I should address my question to your family? Maybe they can explain why I just found you upstairs trying to rape my godson!?!"

The silence was so intense it was practically oppressive.

"I don't know what you mean Professor Lupin. Harry and I were just having fun, and then your shout must have surprised him, and he left. That is all." It sounded weak even to her own ears, but Ginny knew that she would get away with it. After all, hadn't her mother and a few others helped her plan it? Really, the werewolf should learn not to stick his nose in where it wasn't wanted.

"Well it bloody well didn't look like fun to me! And I'm sure Harry would agree with me if he was here. For Merlin's sake, he was bleeding!" He looked on the petite redhead with disgust. "And he's gay! Why would he even think about laying a finger on you? You're the wrong bloody gender. And even if you weren't I sincerely doubt Harry would ever want to get mixed up with someone like _you_." He sneered at her, furious over what she had tried to do, and what she was now trying to get away with.

His words seemed to spur her family into action, and several of them got up to argue over his words. It was chaos for a few moments, before another loud voice interrupted them.

"SILENCE." There was a pause while all eyes turned to Dumbledore. "Thank you. Now Remus, I believe you are being hasty. Things must be the way Ginerva here has told them, she is simply not the kind to attack someone, and after all, we all know Harry can take care of himself. Come, let's take a walk outside, so you can cool off."

Not having realised what a danger the old man was, Remus had not put up any shield, therefore the compulsion charm the old wizard cast over him made sure he would follow the Headmaster outside, just as he'd asked.

Again, not expecting an attack, he couldn't dodge the next curse either.

"_Imperio." _

* * *

**_23rd May 2005_****_ – Near the Entrance to the Labyrinth, _** **_Goblin_****_City_**

Haltingly, Hoggle related the tale of what had happened when the last mortal had run the Labyrinth. Since the dwarf didn't know the entire story, only what Sarah had told him and what he had personally witnessed, Harry only found himself even more intrigued, about both the mortal and his new lover.

That thought made him stop for a moment.

What was happening with the two of them? There was so much he didn't understand about his new situation, and the Goblin King was looming larger and larger at the top of that list. The man was just so...enigmatic. There were so many layers to his personality that Harry believed he had barely scratched the surface in the short time he had been there.

Did he want to find out more? He admitted to himself that he did. Jareth was just so fascinating, that any association with him was thrilling in the extreme. His rather subdued heart found the whole thing exciting and was already trying to open itself up to the strange monarch.

Aside from all of that though, he was a bloody elf! And it looked like he may not even be Harry Potter anymore, in fact, he may have _never been Harry Potter in the first place!_

How did he feel about that, he asked himself. Good? Bad? Indifferent? He wasn't really sure. He supposed he was still in shock and it hadn't actually sunk in that he was in a different world, a world where he wasn't even human.

What did this mean for his life? What about his magic even?

On a sudden impulse, he jumped to his feet, and walked out into an open area, away from the tree he and Hoggle had sat under to find some shade. Looking around, gazed over this lush and fantastical land, and let it soak into him. Closing his eyes, he looked deep within himself, to his core.

It was there.

By the Stars! It was really there! Alive and pulsing, renewed and just bloody brilliant. Laughing joyously, he opened his eyes and shouted out in triumph. It was back! He realised, the feeling of completeness, was coming directly from his magical core, unbound, unfettered and free! And he knew exactly who he had to thank for that.

His wings fluttered and he rose up from the ground a little. Feeling an odd sensation, he glanced down and saw he was hovering. He started in surprise. He turned to see Hoggle frowning at him, and scratching his knobbly head.

"I don't know that ye be wantin' a mess around with them yet." He said, crossing his arms and huffing a little. Harry tittered nervously.

"Um, how do I get back down?" He asked, and then abruptly fell down to the unyielding ground.

"Like that." Hoggle replied.

Having landed with an '_oomph!,_' as the air was knocked out of him, Harry got up on his knees to rub his abused posterior. He scowled at his wings and the old dwarf and decided a nice sulk would do the trick.

* * *

**_24th May, 2005_****_ - Jareth's Bedroom, The Castle Beyond the Goblin City_**

"Good Morning, Harry." The Goblin King murmured, as he felt the body nestled next to his begin to stir.

"G'way, still sleepin'." Was the muffled reply, and Jareth chuckled softly. Perhaps it was best to let the young man sleep.

After all, they _were_ up rather late into the night, and as he expected the Avariel to arrive today, any rest they could get now would most likely be a blessing. For he had less and less doubts about who this erstwhile wizard actually was. They just…fit too well together for it not to be him.

Aside from the familial resemblance, and he did fully admit that such information was unreliable, since he had not seen Dellandario or Enaberia for many years, every instinct the fae possessed was telling him – in no uncertain terms – that this was his mate and he had better damn claim him sooner rather than later.

If Harry _was_ Elessar then they were already a large part of the way towards bonding already. At least, on a physical level. He had not expected him to be comfortable with such intimacy so soon, and despite the enormous pleasure such acts induced for both of them, Jareth wasn't sure it was such a good idea.

It was easy to concentrate on matters of the bedroom, and ignore matters of the heart. Of course, people needed to renew their physical intimacy to ensure they did not drift apart, but if the feelings weren't there already, it never did anyone any good to just jump right into bed with each other.

Unless of course, that was all _Harry_ wanted.

Jareth admitted to himself that he had been thinking of the young elf as his mate from the moment he had awoken from his healing trance. It was possible Harry did not see things that way. He had been denied affection and attention for so long, that maybe he was just taking whatever he could get. Or was Jareth making things too simple? There was surely more at stake here than whether or not the elf would accept his heritage and his destiny – whenever they worked out what that actually was of course.

And then there was the problem of who had removed Prince Elessar from his cradle, and what they had wanted him for. Would they be back, to threaten him again? If they did, then they would have more than the peace loving Avariel to cope with, that was for sure.

"You're thinking too loud." Came the complaint from his side. "And you don't look happy. Come here, and let me make you happy again…"

Jareth gave himself over to the sensations the other man was evoking in him, and wondered if it was possible to fall in love in just three days.

* * *

**_24th May, 2005_** **_– The Largest Courtyard, The Grounds of Jareth's Castle_**

Harry was back under the same tree he had sat under with Hoggle, the day before. Jareth was listening to the usual petitions and though he had encouraged the newly-made elf to join him. However, Harry had found himself bored beyond belief within about half an hour.

So he had leaned close to his King's ear and informed him of his immediate departure to "anywhere less boring than here, with anyone less boring than that lot", indicating the line of pompous looking officials and nobles. It was an unfortunate fact that Jareth was more than the King of the Goblins, and that his realm encompassed the entire Underground.

After the departure of Sarah, he had begun to take a greater interest in his subjects, whom he had treated with rank indifference for many years, and less of one in the Labyrinth. It was a shame that one had to suffer neglect for the other, though, perhaps if he _had_ truly found his mate, then balance could be restored. It was something to think on.

☼

A cry from the underbrush drew Harry's attention, and the young man jumped to his feet to follow the sound. When he had made his tangled way through the bushes, (and confessed to himself that it might have been better to try and find a path), he found the source of the disturbance.

A rather animated little terrier, dressed in what looked like some bastardised version of Elizabethan dress, was jumping around waving a lance in a right little tizzy. He was shouting at a sheepdog who was lying on the ground and seemed to be cradling his left forepaw.

"Ambrosius! Ambrosius! Cease this lolly-gagging immediately!" The terrier was running up and down and cursing the poor other creature. Though the sheepdog didn't seem to care very much, as his eyes fixed on Harry, and held a mute appeal.

Biting his lip so he wouldn't laugh at the terrier-like fellow, the elf made his way forward and sat in front of the sheepdog.

"Hello there little fella. What have we done here then, hmm?" He said in a gentle voice, not noticing his wings unfurl and spread out to shield the dog from the breeze. With expert hands, he picked up the leg which the dog was hiding and examined it. He had a nasty gash running almost from his paw to his abdomen, and it looked quite painful. Running a hand over his pale fur, soothing his whines and trying to offer reassurance, Harry focused his magic.

Not really knowing what to do, since he had only ever treated animals as a muggle, he focused on the wound. He knew what needed to be done, how the cells should repair themselves, how the flesh should knit together, new skin and fur growing to cover the damaged area once repaired.

Harry stopped for a moment, and blinked at what he was seeing.

Everything he had just been thinking, it had happened! He carefully turned the leg experimentally, trying to see if the dog had moved, and he was just looking at another part of its leg. But there was nothing there.

Ambrosius was clearly satisfied, as with a yip of thanks, he bounded to his feet and started to frolic about, barking and running for joy. Harry couldn't help himself, he laughed and watched the sheepdog enjoy himself.

"Why sir! I owe you my deepest thanks! Allow me to introduce myself, I am Sir Didymus, a Knight and Protector of the people. And you?" The terrier – Sir Didymus – was addressing him now, and Harry turned to face him.

"It is an honour, Sir Didymus. My name is Harry. I am staying with His Majesty, up at the castle." He replied, waving a hand behind him to indicate the great fortress.

"Indeed, Sir Harry. I had heard of a mortal brought here by His Majesty. But something must be amiss, for you are not a mortal, you are an Avariel. That noble race of healers and peace-makers, artists and musicians. They say they were born into the world, to celebrate its beauty, and its imperfections. None so close to nature have I met before,. I have not seen one of your kind for many a long year." Sir Didymus seemed rather forlorn at the end of his speech, and Harry quickly tried to think of some way to cheer him up.

"Well, you will get to see a lot more soon, Sir Knight. For the King has sent to Faenya-Dail, asking for help with my coming here. You see, I was not an elf when I arrived." He said and the wizened knight looked at him, clearly interested.

"Truly? It is a mystery then? I take it that it was some action of His Majesty which brought about this change? What were you when you arrived then, pray tell?" He asked, clearly enthralled.

"A wizard. Or, well, sort of. You see…" And for some bizarre reason, Harry opened up to this Sir Didymus. Oh he knew Jareth knew it all already. There had been some strange transference when he had healed him. But it was different, somehow, to actually speak of these things himself, instead of just knowing that the King knew.

He told him everything. His life before Hogwarts. Finding out about being a wizard, and the truth about his parent's death. His years at school, his friends and comrades there. His numerous adventures, and the price _for _those adventures.

Losing Sirius, and then finally fulfilling the prophecy. How it felt to kill a man – how it still weighed on him. How the death of Cedric still haunted him. What had happened after – the way the others had turned on him. The things they tried to do to him – especially that night at The Burrow, almost six years ago now.

How he had lost Remus, though he wasn't dead. How they had taken everything from him, even his photo album, claming he wasn't allowed any magical items until they decided he was a 'fit member of society'.

How he had carried on, his studies, his degree, his new friends. If one could call them that. The way he kept them all away, that he was known for being sarcastic and aloof. All ways of preventing himself from being rejected once more.

Of finding that book, of giving up, and wishing himself away. Knowing he was dying, but not finding it within himself to care.

"And then here I was, and there was Jareth, and since then, well he just, brought me to life. I don't know how or why, but though I still remember those things, they seem...distant." He finished his long story, amazed that the knight had listened for so long, so patiently.

"Ah, you are a noble man, Sir Harry. It is a shame that your world could not find it in their hearts to accept the guilt they felt at needing you to save them. That they could not accept that they were unable to save themselves. Many believe the way of the warrior is glorious and uplifting. Many do not realise that it is often the very opposite. Every world needs men like you and I, but they begrudge that it is necessary. They cannot accept their own faults, so they blame others, blame any soul they can. And sometimes, they turn on the one who has sacrificed all, just to protect them. It is a sad, sad truth, my friend. But there is no denying its veracity." There was silence for a moment as both pondered this, and Harry felt a great weight lifted from his shoulders.

He had not done anything wrong, the world simply couldn't accept him. Well, he did not live in the world anymore, at least, not that one. He was somewhere new, and by the looks of the place, people like him were every day things. That was a novel idea!

"Come now, my young friend. We need not be so maudlin. I believe it is time for you to stretch those wings of yours! Now if I could just find… Ambrosius!"

Harry stepped out onto the grass, noticing for the first time that the light was fading, and dusk was nearly upon them. He looked up to the sky, only to gasp in surprise when he saw figures on the horizon. His breath was stolen again when he felt one arm circle his waist and a hand run over his feathers.

"Steel yourself, my little morsel. The Avariel approach."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter or Labyrinth, or anything else you recognise. **

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I really appreciate them, and will always try to work ideas into the story. Sorry for the delay in posting, but I couldn't seem to get this right for a while. **

**Big, big, huge thanks go to my Beta, SeulWolfe, for her marvellous work on this chapter. **

* * *

Chapter Six

* * *

_"But down in the underground  
You'll find someone true.  
Down in the underground;  
A land serene;  
A crystal moon."_

* * *

**_21st December, 1794_****_ – Unplottable Location_**

"I found it! I found what we were looking for!"

The man at the desk looked up at the shout, and placed a marker in the large book he had been reading.

"Tell me what you have found." He said to his associate.

"All we need is a magical creature. Strong, but passive, and wholly good. We could keep it in stasis and siphon off its magic to feed future generations."

The man was impressed by this idea. He also had one of his own as well.

"It just so happens that I have been reading about a powerful magical object, which could allow a one-off round trip to another world. A world which would be chock full of such creatures."

"That's very good news." The other said.

The man at the desk nodded. "Indeed." He replied.

* * *

**_24th May, 2005_** **_– The Largest Courtyard, The Grounds of Jareth's Castle _**

"Easy for you to say." Mumbled Harry, and he felt as well as heard an amused chuckle from behind him.

"Do not tell me you are afraid, for I shall not believe it." Jareth whispered back, his breath tickling the back of his neck, and ghosting across his sensitive feathers.

"Wouldn't you be? Besides," He said, turning in the King's arms. "There is something more to this visit. Something, which you haven't told me. Don't look so surprised! I lived under the regimen of that conniving old goat, _Dumbledore_," He practically spat the name. "For years. I know a secret when I see one. It's alright though. I imagine you have your reasons. And it's not like you know me well enough to trust me yet, right?" Harry said, looking away for a moment to watch the winged elves fly low and begin to land.

It was truly an awesome sight to behold.

Jareth, on the other hand, wasn't sure whether he was feeling hurt, or relieved. Hurt that Harry had uttered what felt like a dismissal of their fledgling relationship, and relief that he wasn't angry with him, for what he still considered a necessary omission.

For there was something Jareth was hiding from him alright, two very _big _somethings. Surely it could not be everyday that someone walks up to you and says, "By the way, you may have long lost parents and siblings, _and_, you might be my betrothed mate. Not sure yet, though, but thought you might like to know. Cheerio!" Not even mortals were as stupid as that. Well, maybe a few. Or a lot. Whatever.

Harry did not mean anything bad by what he had said, that much was obvious by his casual air. And it was true that it had been much too short a time for them to build any kind of foundation. He would not expect the young man to share _his _every secret, though he already knew a great deal by default. Perhaps it was _because_ he had seen into Harry's very soul and felt so drawn to him, that he naturally assumed it was mutual.

Maybe it wasn't. And maybe that was for the best, at least, until they knew who he was. And if he _was _Elessar, so much the better. One thing he would _not _do, however, was force the man to wed him. Not without a proper wooing.

The Underground had waited for _Elessar_ for two hundred years. That proved they could wait for as many years as _Harry_ needed.

He suddenly wondered why he was behaving so reasonably over all this.

He had not been so calm or compromising when Sarah Williams had entered his realm. Though she _did _have the book, and geas laid on him _by_ the book made him act in the way she had expected him to. And, being a mortal so unused to magic, she had many a fairytale idea as to how the Goblin King should act.

Harry, however, was a wizard. Or had lived as one for a number of years. He was accustomed to goblins and other magical beings, so he supposed the existence of the fae was not really such a leap for him. Thus, he expected Jareth to act like a normal person, and, since he _had _the book as well, Jareth acted so.

All in all, it was a confusing business. The book and its effect on him could not be taken as proof of Harry's identity, since it had reacted to Sarah.

And, come to think of it, _why_ had it reacted to Sarah, and just _how_ did she have it? Though such questions needed to be answered, perhaps they were best left until the identity of his new lover was revealed.

Brought back to reality by a shift of the body he held in front of him, he glanced over to see the contingent of elves had arrived safely. Clearly, it was past time to be indoors.

"Let us not dally here any longer. The sooner we all meet, the sooner we shall have our answers. Sir Didymus, would you and Ambrosius care to join us?"

* * *

**_24th May, 2005_****_ – Jareth's Throne Room, The Castle Beyond The Goblin City_**

"Their Majesties, King Dellandario and Queen Enaberia, Princess Caredessi and her husband, Lord Elalaeryn of the Avariel!"

The announcement was made as a stream of elves flowed in through the double doors and into Jareth's throne room. Luckily, the room had been cleaned as soon as they knew they were expecting guests. Goblins were okay and everything, but not the cleanest beings in the underground. At least, not the ones who remained here.

Harry watched as two very regal people drew closer, though their smiles when they laid eyes on him were warm and kindly. Two younger, yet no less royal looking elves followed behind them, and the members of what must be their court spread out along the walls and in what must be a defensive formation around their charges.

All in all, it was rather daunting, and so unlike anything Harry had ever experienced before. Jareth and his world were like something out of a fantasy or a dream, and yet, right at this moment, it was so very real.

He drew himself in and tried not to look like he was scared. Not being able to see his own face however, he was not at all sure of his success. Nevertheless, he squared his shoulders and turned his attention back to the scene playing out before him.

The Goblin King exchanged the usual ritual greetings, and then got down to specifics. Harry could not help but notice that the eyes of the Queen and her daughter were both firmly fixed on him during the entire process. Added to that, he seemed to have the attention of a rather large portion of the court. And the King too, since his gaze kept flickering away from Jareth and onto Harry himself. Yes, the whole thing was really very daunting.

Even when he was 'Famous Harry Potter', he had never got used to the stares. Or how people would walk into lampposts or as they focused their attention on him and his scar. Well, the scar was gone now, but it seemed these elves had another reason to look fixedly on him.

And it seemed Jareth was not unaware of their scrutiny either, as he flicked supportive glances his way often.

However, Harry could not help but feel like there was something else going on here, aside from the obvious. Yes, he knew the King was had not been completely honest, or at least, had not told him all the information there was to know about this visit. And he probably had his reasons, but still, the newly-made elf could not repress a surge of wild, nervous anticipation.

Whatever it was that Jareth wasn't telling him, it was _big._ No doubt about it. One thought kept playing over and over in his mind, a question, which seemed to shake the very roots of him.

"_Am I someone to these people?_"

☼

"So you see, Your Majesties, there was only one recourse left open to me. This young man seated so quietly at my side, is clearly kin to one or other of your people. Is there any assistance you can offer us, to find out who he is?" Jareth asked, and it felt like everyone in the room held their breath.

Dellandario exchanged looks with his family, before shrugging and turning back to the Goblin King.

"If I may dispense with the formalities Jareth, and speak plainly?" He said, and the fae nodded his consent. "Then I have a very good idea who he is. I mean, look at him! How could we not know? But what I do not understand, is how it is possible for him to be who he appears to be." There was a pause, and then the King turned towards Harry.

The former wizard was struck to the core by the expression of deep pain in the King's eyes, and gasped audibly.

"I am sorry for discussing you as if you were not here. But you, you are a mystery. My heart tells me who you are, and yet my mind denies the reality I see before me! You are but twenty four of your Earth years, Jareth tells me. Correct?" Dellandario inquired and Harry nodded. A ripple seemed to pass through the spectators and Harry shot a look at the Goblin King. He was impassive, clearly not intending to interfere. Harry felt a momentary flare of annoyance, but pushed it down.

"I am but twenty four years old, as far as I know. However, my parents died when I was a baby. All I have to go on, are the words of the wizards who later abandoned me. Your Majesty, I would say at this point, anything is possible." He declared, and there was another murmur of reaction. The Avariel King took a step closer.

"Then I will not deny what my instincts tell me is true, for I know that there is no other answer. You are my son, Elessar. And you were stolen from your cradle two hundred Earth years ago." The King's voice was almost a whisper at the end, as he was visibly choking with emotion.

The other Avariel in the room didn't seem to be doing any better, especially the Queen and the Princess. But Harry wasn't really paying all that much attention to them at the moment, so focused inwards was he. He was struggling to take in what he had just heard. He had imagined all sorts of scenarios and possible outcomes of this visit. But this wasn't one of them. Rather in shock, Harry's mind could only function on a basic level, and so reached out and fixed on the basic facts.

King's son. That means Father – King. Queen…Mother! Princess – Sister. Oh sweet Jesus! Family! Family! _Family!_

He staggered down from the dais where he had been sat next to Jareth, and stumbled slightly in his rush. Not seeming to care about how he looked however, he practically launched himself on Dellandario.

This action seemed to break whatever hold had fallen over the spectators, and the room was suddenly filled with shouts and laughter. The Queen and her daughter abandoned all pretence of royal dignity and pushed themselves towards Dellandario and Harry. The Princess' husband wasn't far behind either, as well as the rest of the elves.

For a while there, Jareth's throne room was complete chaos.

Everyone wanted to get their hands on the young elf, just to prove to themselves that he was real. Enaberia was loath to let go of him once she had her hands on him, and kept patting his arm or cheek, as if to reassure herself that he was really there, and not about to disappear.

A few minutes in, and Harry was beginning to calm from his earlier elation. There were questions that needed to be asked, explanations and stories to be told. This was not the place however.

He turned around as fast as he could with several elves seemingly attached to him, and focused on the person who had brought all of this about.

"Jareth." He said calmly, but loud enough for the others to hear. They too turned to face the Goblin King, with smiles of pure gratitude.

Harry was beaming at the man who had rescued him, and followed his gaze as Jareth inclined his head, and looked towards the door that led to the corridor near his private apartments. Harry nodded to show he understood, and then mouthed to him.

"_Thank you." _

Jareth felt like his answering smile could have lit up the whole world.

* * *

**_24th May, 2005_****_ – Jareth's Private Sitting Room, The Castle Beyond The Goblin City_**

"I suppose I should start." Said Enaberia, once they were all suitably seated and provided with refreshments. Not that any of them could thing of food and drink at a time like this, but the elves had had a long journey and so were glad of the water and juice supplied. Attention turned to the Queen as she spoke, breaking a silence which had descended over the assembled group.

And there _were_ a lot less of them there. Merely the King, Queen, Princess, the Princess' husband, and a couple of aides. Jareth and Harry were of course, there, as well as Sir Didymus and his faithful Ambrosious. Surprise visitors were Hoggle, who had been off somewhere else all day, and Griphook.

Ever-constant Griphook, who had been Harry's first Goblin friend, and the first real magical being he had ever met. Aside from Hagrid, who was a wizard and so didn't count in his opinion.

He realised he was being unfair, but after all this time, he felt entitled to being a little bitter. All eyes were on the Queen – his Mother? – and only God knew how that was possible – so he focused, and waited for her to continue.

"I – I was in the nursery with Elessar – with _you_ –" She said, flicking a glance at Harry, before swallowing and resuming her story. "Y-you – h-he had a little sniffle, or some such, and it was making him – you. It was making _you_," The Queen had evidently decided on the correct pronoun. " – feel very grotty. Sleep was soothing, but you were having trouble settling down. I was tucking you in and singing a lullaby which usually helped you sleep, but then a man appeared from nowhere! He – he waved a stick at me and muttered something, and then I – all I could feel was pain." She sobbed with the memory, which must have been incredibly vivid, even after all these years.

Harry, having some idea as to which curse the Queen was placed under, could sympathise. He could still remember every moment of each and every time he had been subjected to the _Cruciatus_. He didn't think there was anyone who wouldn't. Not even the Longbottoms.

The King then took up his wife's story, as she clearly could not.

"I had just been in with council, listening to a Seer recite a prophecy which she believed told of your possible abduction, though we were not sure at the time. It is a great shame we were not warned earlier, for mere moments after she finished speaking, I heard my wife scream. We rushed to the nursery, and found her on the floor with a man pointing a stick at her." He paused and gathered himself. Harry stirred and reached out a hand for Jareth, relaxing slightly when he felt the fae's reassuring grip.

"A wand. That stick? It's called a wand. The man was a _wizard_." Harry said the last part with audible disgust.

"A _wand _then." Dellandario murmured. "Well, then, the _wizard_, was standing over her, but disappeared almost instantly as we entered the room. I went to Enaberia, to see if she was alright, but one of our servants drew our attention to your crib. You were gone, stolen by someone or something we had no knowledge of. We had no idea how to get you back!" Here the Avariel King's voice broke and he and his wife clung to each other, weeping unabashedly.

Harry wanted to comfort them, but didn't know how. He couldn't imagine what it was like to lose a child, and feel utterly powerless in how to even _begin_ to look for him, let alone get him back. He exchanged a helpless look with Jareth, and then his eyes fell on the Princess.

His sister.

"Brother, we tried all we could. Every spell, every enchantment, to no avail. We consulted with all and sundry. Jareth here tried his magics too, but you were cloaked somehow. He knew you were Aboveground, but not where or with whom. After a council of sorts, a way was found. It was what mortals call a 'long shot', but it was the best hope we had." Now she faltered as well, and it fell to the Goblin King to finish this particular tale.

"The book that you read, that made you call out to me. It was sent to the mortal world to be the instrument which would bring about your destiny. The magic would lead it to you, and you would read it and call out to me, to bring you back Underground. It seemed like a very hopeless thing to rely on, and for a long time, we all believed that it had failed. But clearly, it did not, as you _did _call. And here you are." He said the last with a charming smile, which made Harry chuckle and squeeze the hand he was still holding.

"But there is more. You said earlier that you knew I was hiding something. This – your family was one of those things. The other, I have nod idea if you will be pleased or not. But know this, before anything else – you have a choice. Neither I, nor anyone else will force you. No matter what. Do you understand me?" He demanded and Harry could see the man that had brought fear to the hearts of so many before him. But even though he could see it, he wasn't afraid. He couldn't be, not after everything they shared already.

"I understand." He replied simply, not wanting to comment more than that until he heard whatever it was had been bothering the Goblin King since his healing.

"There is no point in procrastinating then. I believe I dislike prophecies as much as you do, Harry. However, there was one made which pertains to us, and because of it, we have been betrothed since your birth. Now, as I said before, it is your choice. I would marry you in a heartbeat if I could, and I believe we would be deliriously happy for the rest of our lives. But there is not need to decide anything right now. One thing you will learn, living in the Underground, is that we have _time._ Time to consider things at our leisure, so take as long as you need." Jareth paused and waited for his words to sink in.

"Betrothed? But…time. Yes, time would be good. Merlin! This is a lot to take in." He leaned forward and rested his face in his hands. "I sometimes wonder if I should have just stayed in my cupboard and left those stupid letters alone. But then, if I did that…" He paused and looked up at Jareth, not really noticing the confused looks passing between the others at the mention of his 'cupboard'.

"If I do say yes – and I'm not deciding anything now – can we, you know, have, what do they call it, a 'courtship'? Get to know each other and stuff, like we have been?" He asked and the King nodded with a smile.

"Of course. It would not be a happy union otherwise. And though I do not wish to make a scene in front of family and friends, I would ask for your hand even if you were not Elessar, and consequences be damned!" Jareth ignored the shocked exclamations of his guests and focused on the young man next to him.

"I like that you said that." Murmured Harry with a shy smile.

"It's nothing but the truth." Assured Jareth, and he watched avidly, as the smile spread across the former wizard's face.

☼

"How do we know for sure, aside from my appearance – which is what I assume you are basing your ideas of my identity on – that I am this Elessar?" Asked Harry. He didn't want to rock the boat, so to speak, but he didn't want this snatched away from him. That fear, would cloud every dealing he had with his true family – if that was who they were. Therefore he knew it had to assuaged, and quickly.

Jareth considered it before speaking.

"There are some simple tests I believe. Griphook? Could we use some goblin magic? Yours is the most precise in these matters, as I believe your work in Gringotts necessitates these kind of proceedings. Inheritances and the like." He explained when the Avariel looked confused.

"Good idea." Agreed Harry, and he turned questioning eyes on his old friend.

"It is a simple matter. We would merely need one drop of blood from either parent, and one from yourself, Mr Potter." Replied the goblin, and Harry flinched slightly from the name. Then, smiling, he turned his nose up a little.

"Actually, it's _Dr_ Potter, Griphook. I did not spend five years at the Royal Veterinary College to be a simple 'Mr', you know!" He chided, but his snobbish attitude was let down by the obvious laughter in his eyes.

"Oh, _do _forgive me, Dr Potter!" The goblin rejoined, and Harry chuckled.

"Quite alright, old boy!" He said and Griphook shook his head, as if giving him up as a hopeless case.

"Um, Royal Veterinary College?" Questioned Princess Caredessi. Harry addressed his maybe-sister.

"A veterinary surgeon, which is often shortened to 'vet', is a physician for animals and a practitioner of veterinary medicine. Which basically means, we specialise in healing animals. It's what I always wanted to do, and Aboveground, you must study and receive a qualification – something to prove you are able to do the work properly – before you are allowed to treat sick animals. When that happens you become what mortals call a 'doctor'. But for animals, instead of people. So, although I wasn't really annoyed, my correcting Griphook was _technically _right. I am a 'Dr' not a 'Mr'. It's just semantics really, and doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things." He said, waving it away.

Caredessi looked thoughtful, and his parents – Merlin! His parents! – looked pleased.

"And _Dr Potter_ – is not your average vet either, Your Majesties, he works in a hospital which cares for sick animals for free. He still gets paid of course, but he has accepted a wage well below the norm, so that he can work for a charity." Said Griphook proudly, obviously wanting to show off his friend and his achievements as much as possible.

Harry was trying to dismiss the information as irrelevant, but Jareth felt like he should warn him he was fighting a losing battle.

"Harry, you are a Goblin Friend. As such, you are to be treated like one of their own. When not around your human wizards, goblins like to boast of their abilities and achievements. You will just have to become accustomed to this as I do not think he is likely to stop any time soon." He explained and Harry shrugged.

"I suppose so. Alright then. Can we do this test now?" He asked, going back to what they had been discussing earlier. The others, who had begun talking amongst themselves, stopped to listen.

"Very well." Agreed Griphook, and he waited for a nod from the King and Queen.

☼

In a very short space of time, Griphook was holding a parchment, over which had dripped one drop each of Harry and Dellandario's blood. Now all they could do was wait for the results, which should only take a few minutes.

To those in the room however, those minutes felt like hours.

The royal family of the Avariel clung to each other, trying to disguise the longing and hope in their eyes, but doing it poorly. It was obvious what they wanted to outcome to be.

Griphook was simply staring at the parchment, not really showing anything in his expression.

The elven aides were standing off to one side, their faces as unreadable as Professor Snape's used to be at times.

Sir Didymus was watching everyone, concern etched into his face.

Hoggle was staring at the ceiling, muttering to himself quietly, clearly agitated at this delay and the tension it was causing.

Ambrosious had no comment to make, he was just sitting at his master's feet, tail wagging intermittently.

Harry was an ocean of different feelings. He wasn't sure which one he felt the most, just that he was feeling like he would explode if the results didn't materialise soon. He was currently sat in Jareth's lap, his wings tucked away in the fashion the Princess had showed him only moments before. She'd also promised to help him learn to use them properly later, whatever the outcome of the test. He was looking forward to the lessons with a mixture of excitement, and trepidation.

Jareth had his arms around him, and Harry was drawing strength from that. He didn't really know when today's revelations would sink in, never mind that there was clearly more to come, with so many questions unanswered. But this test, this was the first step. If they could get past this, then he felt that together, him and his (hopefully) family, as well as Jareth of course, would have the tools to work all of this out.

_If_, they could get past this, that was.

It was at times like this when Harry wondered if the fates liked to delay things like this, for purely dramatic effect. And if they did, had they been taking lessons from ITV?

☼

Griphook cleared his throat, and everyone jumped. Their heads all snapped round to stare at him, and he felt the tide of their desperation wash over him, as he gained all of their attention.

"The results, well. See for yourselves. My King." He said, handing the parchment to Jareth. The Goblin King scanned it quickly, Harry doing likewise from his lap.

The others could not tell from the expressions of the three who had just read it, what the answer was, and glanced at each other nervously.

"By the Stars! Jareth! Read it aloud, I beg of you!" Demanded Enaberia, and Jareth nodded.

"Forgive me, I did not mean to distress you." He pulled Harry a little closer as he announced: "Elessar Devoryn, son of Dellandario and Enaberia Devoryn, Prince of Faenya-Dail."

The silence that followed only lasted for a moment when everyone burst into loud exclamation of happiness...as Harry finally found his way home.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter, Labyrinth or anything else you recognise.**

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. Have just edited this, so decided to post it. **

* * *

Chapter Seven

* * *

_"No one can blame you_  
_For walking away._  
_Too much rejection._  
_No love injection."_

* * *

**_25th May, 2005_****_ – Senior Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt's Office, Department for Magical Law Enforcement_**

"Yes, Healer…Whistler, is it? How can I help you?" Shacklebolt asked, obvious annoyance and boredom etched in his voice.

He had serious matters to attend to, and was irritated that this self important jackass had demanded to speak with him personally. However, he was in Headmaster Dumbledore's pocket, so it paid to cater to his ego. For now, at least.

"Auror Shacklebolt, I am here to report a matter of great importance to you. Harry Potter has missed his latest scheduled appointment." Harry's Mind Healer delivered this news with the appropriate seriousness, but could not prevent the expression of relish entering his eyes at his charge's infraction. Perhaps he was hoping the young man would be punished.

Kingsley however, was momentarily taken aback.

Had Potter still had to go to those sessions with this pompous git of a shrink? Since his trial and sentence had been carried out, the wizarding world hadn't heard a peep out of him. His case had been filed by Shacklebolt's department, and they'd promptly forgotten about him.

"_Huh, couldn't have been much of a threat after all then. Though I suppose he wouldn't be, without his magic._" He thought, and then cursed himself for a fool.

There were ways and means around a magical binding, and anyone who was reported to be as dark as the Potter boy was, would have no trouble contacting other practitioners of those arts, and having the block lifted. It would not have been easy, but still…doable.

But, clearly, he hadn't. Or if he had, he'd not gone out and wreaked bloody vengeance, as so many had feared he might. Signalling his assistant, Kingsley ordered the Potter file to be brought in.

"So, Healer Whistler, what can you tell me about his mental and emotional state? What has he been doing with himself? Where does he work etc.?" He asked, opening the file and skimming over the last entry.

Whistler himself opened a file and read from it.

"His mental state is unstable at best. He is very reticent in our meetings and it is difficult for me to get any reactions from him, or to get ideas across. As for his emotional state, that is unreadable. He works at the PDSA Pet Aid Hospital, in Salisbury. He is a veterinary surgeon, and now goes under the name 'Dr' Harry Potter. It is a muggle salutation, I believe." The Healer reported, a slight sneer on his face.

Shacklebolt wondered if there actually _was_ something wrong with Potter, or if dealing with this man just made him shut down temporarily. Merlin knew it was beginning to do that to him.

"What is a veterinary surgeon, Healer?" He asked, making notes.

"An animal Healer. I think he said he had attended a muggle university in order to become qualified to treat animals in their world." He replied, clearly not very interested in Harry's job.

"And the PDSA?" Prompted Kingsley, feeling like he was trying to get blood out of stone. No, scratch that, such a task would be far easier than this.

"A charitable organisation, I believe." Was all the man said. Realising he wasn't going to get much more information out of him, Kingsley rose to dismiss him.

"Thank you for taking the time to come and report this to us, Healer Whistler. You are a credit to St. Mungo's and to Wizarding Britain as a whole." He said, practically knowing the thing by rote. Suitably puffed up with his own importance, the Mind Healer left the Auror Headquarters.

Shacklebolt sat back for a minute, considering the case.

It was bound to open a whole can of worms that Kingsley _really _didn't want to open. Harry Potter was an emotive issue for many in the Wizarding World, and he wasn't sure if his department was going to come out at the other end of this, unscathed. Sighing, he sat up to make the fire-call he knew he would have to, the sooner he did it, the better. Any delays would just cause problems. Merlin knew he didn't need any more of those!

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's Office."

* * *

**_20th May, 2005_****_ – Healer Sakoto's Reiki Room, Uruma, Okinawa_**

"Remus, you were right to suspect that there was an enchantment placed upon you. You have been subjected to the curse your kind calls '_Imperius_'. I do not know what instructions were given to you. I can only break the spell. Is this what you wish?" Asked Sakoto.

Remus regarded her with trepidation and fear.

Oh, he wanted the _Imperius_ broken alright, but he was worried to find out what it had been forcing him to do. Perhaps it was the cause for him travelling half way across the world, for a second time? He was already angry with himself for running off last time, and he was unsure of why he had done it _this _time. Every time he thought about going home, well, he just didn't.

Actually, thinking about it now, it was pretty obvious what _one _of the things the curse was forcing him to do, and he didn't like it at all. Not one bit.

"Very well." He replied, and she set to work.

* * *

**_  
24th May, 2005 – Jareth's Bedroom, The Castle Beyond The Goblin City_**

Jareth and Harry were both sat on the huge bed, facing slightly away from each other, neither sure how to start the inevitable conversation, but both knowing it had to be had.

Everything that had been discovered and revealed that evening hung between them, the emotions of it all mixed and jumbled until they were hardly recognisable. It was as if a great weight had been lifted, only to be replaced by a new one. But one which hadn't been properly aligned or placed, and so, they felt off-kilter.

"So, um, betrothed huh?" Harry said, for lack of anything better to say. He cursed himself silently for sounding like an idiot. But it seemed to do the trick, as Jareth stirred and smiled at him.

"Yes, betrothed. We have been since a few days after your birth. It was decided by the council of the many races of the Underground. My Underground. Originally I was to marry your sister, Caredessi. But she found her mate and so it was not to be. Between us, I am glad." He explained and Harry smiled, pleased.

"Oh really?" He asked and Jareth smiled back. He slid over the bed to kneel in front of Harry and cupped a cheek with his hand, rubbing his thumb gently across the smooth skin, he looked as if he was trying to memorise every detail.

"Yes. Really. When I first looked into your eyes, as a baby, I was unsure. But now I have met you, the man. I _am_ sure. Despite everything that has happened to you, to bring you here, you still maintain such a wondrous and generous character. Your spirit is wild yet caring. You are so intelligent, and yet you do not flaunt your gifts to those who could quite easily be considered less than you. In fact, you truly believe that _none_ are less than you. I am not trying to make you out to be a saint, or anything other than what you are. I suppose I am trying to say that I am glad that the real you is finally free, and that I am glad you are here, with me."

He paused to take a breath, and his hand migrated from Harry's face to his waist and he gently tugged the younger man forwards. "Yes, we are promised to each other, but since we are immortal, there is no need to rush anything. I would be... honoured to continue has we have been and let the rest of our relationship develop naturally. What do you think?" Jareth asked the last part in a slight rush, as if he was nervous of a possible answer.

Harry reached out a hand, and smoothed some of the fae's hair behind his ears, pausing to take the time to trace the outer shell of the pointy ears.

"Strange." He murmured, still unused to the changes in his own body, he jumped slightly in surprised as one of Jareth's hands skimmed over his now lobe-less ears. He chuckled and shook his head, his fingers not leaving the soft skin of the Goblin King's neck as he spoke.

"I agree. This, is a surprise. There is no denying that. I mean, I'm an elf, not a human. And I'm not alone in the world, I have parents! A brother and a sister! It's mind boggling really. But you, you were the one to bring me all this. And now you tell me that we have been promised to each other, it's a shock yes, but, it feels _right_. That's not to say it won't take some getting used to, because it will. But, I don't know, it feels nice, I guess." He said, his hands now in Jareth's hair, his body slightly closer and wanting to be even closer still.

The Goblin King tried to focus on what Harry was saying, and ignore what his hands were doing, but it wasn't easy.

"Nice." He repeated, and it was only half a question.

"Yes, nice. Sort of, reassuring. Like, since you're going to be my husband _and _King someday, I know I don't have to worry about anyone else trying to steal you. I might be yours, but equally, you're _mine_. And I'm not going to let you get away. So, why don't we go to bed, and let the details work themselves out as they come, hmm?" Harry said, arms now round the King's neck, pulling him towards him.

"Hmm...bed, yes, excellent idea, Your Highness." He murmured, their lips barely an inch apart.

* * *

**_25th May, 2005_****_ - Queen Enaberia's Dressing Room, Royal Guest Quarters, Jareth's Castle_**. 

"Your Majesty, His Majesty and Prince Elessar invite you and your family to break your fast with them, in the gardens this morn. May I carry back your answer?"

The Queen stirred from her dressing table, and smiled warmly at the servant.

"Yes, please tell them that we shall all join them." Replied Enaberia, feeling confident that she could answer for her husband, daughter and son in law.

What a shame her eldest son was not here! But he was needed at home, and this was his chance to prove himself as a leader. Not that he hadn't already done that numerous times, nor was it to say that the people didn't love him and wouldn't follow him. Far from it. No. This was something which Talemario needed to prove to _himself_. Then he would be fine.

Just as the servant was leaving, Dellandario entered the room and she rose to greet him. Wordlessly pulling her into an embrace, the King tried to calm his excited nerves which were still frayed from yesterday's revelations and impromptu reunion. They'd had some idea of what to expect before they arrived, thanks to the crystal sphere which Jareth had sent, but despite the visual evidence, he had not allowed himself to believe in the possibility that his baby son was alive.

Not until he had been in his physical presence and literally _felt _the familial connection.

Finding Elessar after all this time, felt like the conclusion to a lifelong quest. And yet, they were still left with so many questions. Who had taken him, and why? Where? Would they return and seek to abduct him again? Dellandario tightened his arms around his wife slightly as if to reassure himself that he had his family safe in his protection.

For her part, Enaberia took this opportunity to study her husband in such an unguarded moment. She knew the lines of his face so well, even better than her own, she thought sometimes. But he was more than a simple elf. He was a King, and as such, was remote from so many. Of course, he took a personal interest in their people, and the citizens of Faenya-Dail knew that their monarch would not turn them away, no matter how small the matter. But all they saw was the benevolent ruler, who acted the way they expected him to. They didn't see the person behind the persona, as it were.

But she did, and she could see that while happy, there was something worrying him. She didn't have to try and puzzle it out, since she already knew - it was most likely the same thing that was worrying her, or close to it. Resting her head against his shoulder she glanced up into her husband's emerald green eyes, so like the ones his eldest and youngest son's shared. Their daughter had vivid violet eyes, just like her mother.

Talemario was a good mix of both parents, while Caredessi favoured her mother and maternal grandmother. Elessar however, was cut from almost exactly the same cloth as his papa, and it showed. There was a slight similarity when he was a baby, but now he was a man grown and the likeness was uncanny, save for a softening of features he must have inherited from her. She was over the moon at the chance to finally notice these things, and to have the time to look for them. Shaking herself from her reverie she informed Dellandario about the breakfast and then finished her dressing as quickly as possible.

* * *

**_25th May, 2005_****_ - Dumbledore's Office - Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_**

"I do not understand what it is you are telling me Auror Shacklebolt. Your office was supposed to be watching the man, how can he be missing?!" Demanded the Minister of Magic.

Since his report to the Headmaster earlier that day, after the interview with that Mind Healer, his department had gone all out to find as much information on Harry Potter and his possible whereabouts. So far, they hadn't had much luck.

"We were, after his sentence was carried out, ordered to operate surveillance on him. But after two years, it was decided, by my predecessor, that resources being employed to monitor Dr Potter could be better utilised elsewhere. He received authorisation from your office, Sir. Since Dr Potter has not committed any offences, nor had any been _reported_, before or after his trial, it was felt that any threat he posed was negligible, and he himself was benign."

Kingsley could feel a headache coming on, and was actually due home hours ago. Not that mentioning either of those things would make a difference, or in fact would matter to any of the people present at this meeting.

"Be that as it may, authorisation or no, your department has let the side down, Shacklebolt! Don't try and worm your way out of this one!" The Minister replied, floundering slightly, because he knew that his excuses were just that - excuses.

"Gentlemen! Please, let us return to the subject at hand - Harry's disappearance. Now, what is known?" Dumbledore stated calmly. That is, calmly on the surface. Internally, his mind was moving at a mile a minute.

Dumbledore knew Harry was not a Potter by birth.

He knew that he was a child his ancestors had sent to him to give to the Potters to raise. He was to be the bringer about of a great prophecy. Instructions had been left to him by his Father on what to do, when the time was right. He didn't question any of it, he just knew he had to bow to the needs of the greater good.

Though where his family had got a human child from, he did not know. All he knew was that the child was powerful enough, and the infertile Potters were desperate enough.

"He attended work as normal on the morning of Friday, 20th May. He had a half-day holiday, and told the colleagues who asked that he was to attend a 'car-boot sale', and later was going to relax with a nice book or DVD. No one we've spoken with has seen him since he left the PDSA Hospital in Salisbury. We have investigated this 'car-boot sale' phenomenon, and found many of these gatherings in the area. As yet, we have not been able to question any potential witnesses, as these events are of a disorganised nature. Any may attend to either sell their wares or to purchase items. As such, we have no basis for identifying any attendees. Dr Potter missed an appointment with his healer on Monday, 23rd May. Healer Whistler then reported this to me this morning, Wednesday 25th May. At this time, we may state that Dr Potter has been missing for approximately five and half days." Kingsley finished his report.

A part of him, the part which still felt grateful to the slightly scrawny teenager who saved them all from the Dark Lord Voldemort, wished that they could leave Harry missing. He was probably fine, wherever he was. His home showed no signs of forced entry. His car, which had been towed away by the local police force, showed no obvious signs of trauma or a struggle. He'd probably had enough and taken himself off somewhere. After all, he did have a muggle job, and was paid in muggle money which the Ministry had no control over, much to their chagrin. So, he wasn't without means.

"Has a search been performed of his home?" Asked Dumbledore, looking over the papers which Shacklebolt had handed him on arrival. Stuff which basically answered all the questions the old man was asking, but in a much more long winded manner.

"Yes, nothing obvious is missing. His passport is in our possession as you know. And, as far as we're _aware_, he has not obtained a replacement. However, we do not have control over the British Passport Agency, so a new passport may have been possible." Kingsley answered.

"Right, I see." Dumbledore said, eyes still on the report. He closed it abruptly. "Kingsley, I want him _found_."

"Of course, Headmaster." Shacklebolt replied. "_Wouldn't want your precious Golden Boy out of your control now, would you old man?"_ He thought to himself.

* * *

**_25th May, 2005_****_ - The Rose Garden, The Grounds of Jareth's Castle_**

Harry was sitting at the table arranged by the servants, happy for the moment to simply listen to people talk around him, listen to the sound of the castle moving through its everyday life, the animals in the garden, the goblins laughing and being rowdy in the distance.

The fairies were nestled amongst the flowers in the nearby rose bushes, and he could see Hoggle was just _itching_ to get up and start spraying them with fairy-repellent. However, he seemed to be restraining himself. Whether it was the company he was in, or if it was just because he was hungry, Harry really wasn't sure. Probably the latter though.

He'd not quite recovered from the shock of the day before. Though he had to admit, the night spent in Jareth's arms had done _a lot_ to reassure him. It was funny, he didn't realise until now, that he had never really connected with anyone he'd been with in the past. Though, it wasn't that unusual, considering most of his experience was rushed encounters at university or school. And maybe he felt so close to the Goblin King because he knew the man had seen inside him practically, and hadn't run away screaming.

What was weird as well, was that in the book - _The Labyrinth_ - he had acted so differently. He was cruel and controlling, vindictive and spiteful. Thinking about it now, he could not see how that cruel fae and the lover he knew could be the same person. Clearly there was more to it than he knew already. And wasn't that just the theme of the moment? There was an _awful_ lot he was ignorant about - this place, its people, hell! His family even!

Not that he wasn't overjoyed to have them - he most definitely was. But, it would probably take years to sort anything out. "_At least life won't be boring." _He thought to himself.

He felt a hand slip into his and squeeze gently. He turned to face the owner of the hand, looking into eyes to foreign from what he was used to, and yet no less compelling than the first time he looked into them. But where there had been cold amusement before, they were now completely filled with warmth.

"Lost in your thoughts?" Jareth asked and Harry nodded.

"Elessar - Harry - sorry I do not know how to address you. But Hoggle here said you were having difficulty in flying. I would love to provide you with some assistance, if you would like." Princess Caredessi offered with a hopeful smile. She also looked a little nervous, as if she wasn't quite sure of how her offer would be received. Harry smiled back and she seemed to relax.

"That would be great! And call me Harry, please. For now, anyway, it is what I am used to." He replied and she inclined her head in agreement.

"Perhaps, if it is alright, you two could do that this afternoon. I do not mean to bring the mood down, but I believe there are some concerns we should address. Such as, who took Elessar - Harry, and if they might try again. I realise that we know little of these matters, but perhaps if we could pool our information, it might prove fruitful?" Suggested King Dellandario. Harry flicked a worried look at him, and exchanged a significant glance with Jareth . "Son, I would never forgive myself if we lost you a second time. I know this is unlikely, as you are now more than capable of defending yourself. But I just..." His voice trailed off, as emotion rose within him and made his voice sound hoarse.

"Father, it feels strange to call you that, and yet not at the same time. I know what you mean, and I don't think it would be a problem to discuss such things. I think it would be a good idea for one of the Gringotts goblins to join us as well, to see what news they have of the Aboveground. Someone is bound to have noticed my disappearance by now." Harry said, and the others nodded.

"Do you think they will be looking for you?" Asked Enaberia quietly.

"I would be surprised if they weren't. I was supposed to see the Mind Healer they assigned me a few days ago, and he definitely would report it if I missed a session without warning. He'd have to - it's in his contract. Despite the fact that the Wizarding World cast me off like yesterday's newspaper, they still kept their eyes firmly on me and my affairs. They wanted to run everything - they had control over my life, my money, my home. And the stupid thing is, I don't even know why. Not really. I don't know what it is I did that was _so_ bad, that they had to take my magic. My life, even." Harry had to stop before he became overwhelmed. His family and friends looked shocked and angry, and all emotions in between.

"What _did _happen? How did they turn on you? How did it all come about?" Asked Caredessi, wanting to understand this world she had no knowledge of. Wanting to reason out how an entire people turned on a person as kind as her little brother appeared to be.

"There wasn't one all-changing event, I don't think. It just accumulated, and accumulated, until the ordinary people called for my arrest. I didn't really do anything. Oh, I was in the news, and stories were written about me. Such stories that were full of spite and fabrications. They had some idea, of how they wanted me to behave. I was famous, more famous than anyone in the Wizarding World had even been before, and everyone wanted a piece of me. I think in the end, people stopped seeing me as a person; I was just a vehicle, a means for them to achieve their goals - politicians, journalists, teachers, my friends even! When I didn't conform to their idea, when I carried on as if my fame didn't exist, they didn't like it. Not one bit." He paused to take a sip of his drink, his throat suddenly dry.

It was so hard to speak about things like this, that period of his life had been over for years, or at least, living in the muggle world with no magic, he had been separated from it for years, but the feelings - they were still raw. It had actually still hurt him physically, since the day of the binding. Painkillers, like codeine, tramacet and the like had helped for a while, but he had to stop lest he become addicted.

The pain had only gone away completely, when Jareth had healed him.

"The arrested me for extreme antisocial behaviour, and high crimes against the wizarding people. Completely fake crimes and charges which don't exist. Not in Wizarding law, as I had someone look them up. In fact, according to a source of mine, no charges were ever filed against me. No legal proceedings were begun. No counsel was offered and no one had a chance to protest. They just dragged me in there for their disgusting show of power and then stripped me of everything I ever thought I was. Because they could. And, because nobody was going to stop them. I wonder sometimes, if I should have even bothered saving them. At least with the Dark Lord, you could be fairly sure of where you stood and what he wanted from you. Even if you didn't agree, at least he was largely up front about things: "_I am going to kill you. Why? Because I don't like you and you get on my nerves. Bye, bye!" _He was a pretty straight forward guy, most of the time." Harry said the last with a sardonic smile.

_"_It's hard not to be bitter about these things. I, myself have know betrayal, dishonour and persecution by my friends and family. One knows that not everyone in the world is like that, but then at the same time, in such cases, the mob rules. Individuals might not agree, but their power to change minds, to make a difference, is often negligible. There are examples of occasions where this has not been the case, but usually, it is so. The perpetrators often get away with the crimes. However, this time, that is not true. What your wizard associates seem to have forgotten, or what they may have been too blind or too arrogant to discover - is that magic is a _gift_ - not a _right_. It is _not_ theirs to neither bestow nor remove. Their actions against you will have consequences. The Fates will not let this rest for long. I do not know what their punishment will be, but _they will be punished_." Jareth's tone was deadly serious, and the others around the table had faces which were just as grim and grave.

Harry could tell, they were _not_ joking.

* * *

**_26th May, 2005_** **_-The Phoenix Chamber, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_**

The Order of the Phoenix had to start holding their meetings at Hogwarts since Harry's assets had been transferred to the Ministry's control. While they were pleased he had been prevented from using his considerable fortune to finance his own reign of terror, they were rather put out that they could no longer use Grimmauld Place as their Headquarters. Not that they had many Death Eaters to fight these days. But that didn't mean they had nothing to talk about. Mainly, they concentrated on manipulating things behind the scenes, just the way Dumbledore liked it.

They were meeting today to discuss Harry's disappearance. And no one was particularly happy about it.

"I told you we should have just let a Dementor Kiss him! Would've been a lot simpler all round. With any luck he might not have changed his Will and we could have got some cash out of it." Said Ron Weasley, and rather predictably too.

"Ronald! For all we know he could be dead!" Said Hermione Granger. A few were surprised she was actually concerned. But they soon got over it. "You mustn't speak ill of the dead, even if he was a danger. Though, he may not be dead. He may have gone to put his plans into place, whatever they are." She said and a few others nodded.

"Whatever his motives for disappearing are, I brought you here so we could discuss finding him. Now, Kingsley has suggested that he may have saved muggle money from his job. As you already know, the Ministry has no control over his muggle bank accounts, as they cannot bypass the Data Protection Act which his information is subject to. The Muggle Relations Officer won't hear of it, as it would cause too much chaos on the other side. They have pursued every avenue possible, even trying to fool his account manager into believing we are his accountants or solicitors, but it would seem we would need Harry's permission each and every time we tried to access anything, or have him fill in some kind of disclosure form. Even then, we would not be able to restrict his usage of his own money, without something called Power of Attorney, which is arranged through the muggle Courts. Duplication of such a document _is_ possible, but against the Muggle Protection Act." The Order listened to this patiently, though the reasons they could not restrict his muggle bank account were old news to most.

"How much does he make anyway? What is he? Some kind of healer, right? What do they get these days?" Asked Tonks and Hermione coughed slightly.

"He's a Veterinary Surgeon. They normally receive a high salary. But he works for a charity, so I'd estimate he's on about thirty thousand pounds a year. Nothing to sniff at." She said and a few people looked confused. She rolled her eyes, and added, "That's about seven and half thousand galleons per annum." Now they understood.

"Not bad, not bad at all. How long has he been working there?" Dung wanted to know.

"_Not_ long enough to build up a fortune big enough to take over the world, you cretins! He went to university you know. The muggles have to _pay_ for that these days. He's probably paying off his debts from being a student. _Honestly_." Scoffed Severus, wondering why he was still here, and then feeling a twinge in the fealty mark Dumbledore had placed on him more than twenty years ago, he remembered.

"_Oh yeah, that's why. Bastard._" He thought. _"Merlin, give me strength!"_

* * *

**_26th May, 2005_****_ - Jareth's Bedroom, The Castle Beyond the Goblin City_**

Jareth stirred restlessly as he felt a cool breeze run over his exposed skin. He rolled over and reached out to pull Harry closer, only to discover that his love was no longer sleeping beside him. Sitting up a little too quickly, he looked around the dim room trying to spot him. He judged the time to be a few hours before dawn, and wondered where Harry would have gone to this late - or this early, depending on how you looked at it. Still peering into the gloom, he saw Harry sitting on the windowsill of the nearest window, his hair and feathers fluttering in the early morning breeze.

He rose, more slowly this time, and made his way over the quiet elf. Reaching out a hand to run through his hair, Jareth was relieved when he felt the younger male lean into his touch.

"Can't sleep?" The Goblin King asked the obvious question.

"Hmm? No, I had a bad dream." Harry sighed, and turned slightly so he could rest his head against Jareth's chest. Almost automatically, the King folded his lover into his arms.

"Want to talk about it?" He offered, his concern clear in his voice. Harry nodded, and then shook his head.

"I don't know." He murmured, his voice muffled from where he was trying to bury his face in the other man's embrace. Stepping back slightly, Jareth placed his hands under Harry's chin so he could look into his eyes.

"It makes a difference sometimes you know. Please, tell me what is troubling you. I want to help." He cajoled and Harry seemed to relent.

"Very well. I had a dream I've had so frequently, that I feel like the very image of it is etched into the backs of my eyelids. I see it so often, it's a wonder I can see anything else. My, godfather - the man my parents chose to protect me should anything happen to them - he died, many years ago now. In fact nearly ten years ago, and I watched it. Watched him fall through the Veil, and there was nothing I could do to stop it! I couldn't save him, and it was all my fault and I..." He choked, trying to hold back the tears because he had cried about this too many times in the past. He sniffed and looked up at Jareth, and blinked in surprise at the arrested expression on the King's face. "Jareth?" He prompted and the fae jumped slightly.

"Forgive me my inattention. Ah, you have been crying, I am sorry I was far away for a moment. Did you say the Veil? Do you mean he died?" He questioned and Harry frowned.

"No, well, I assume he did. He fell through a...curtain, and d-didn't appear on the other side. There was no...b-body, but they said, they all said..." He paused and visibly collected himself, wiping the moisture away from his eyes and taking a deep, calming breath. "Why do you want to know?" He demanded, and Jareth closed his eyes for a moment.

"He's not dead, Harry. He's in an Oubliette."


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not know any part of Harry Potter or anything else you recognise. **

**A/N: Special thanks to my Beta reader, the lovely SeulWolfe. And thanks to everyone who reviewed! **

**† - indicates a blatant homage to 'The Princess Bride' – probably the best film I have ever seen. **

* * *

Chapter Eight

* * *

_"Everything that you wanted I have done. You asked that child be taken, I took him. You cowered before me and I was frightening. I have reordered time, I have turned the world upside down, and I have done it all for you! I am exhausted from living up to your expectations of me. Isn't that generous?"_

* * *

**__**

**_26th May, 2005_****_ - Jareth's Bedroom, The Castle Beyond the Goblin City_**

Harry was nervously pacing back and forth across the floor in Jareth's bedroom. Though, he should probably call it their bedroom, since he hadn't slept in the room assigned to him more than once or twice.

As soon as Jareth had explained what an Oubliette was, Harry had demanded they send someone to look. In fact, he was ready to go there himself, only Jareth's direct order not to, stopped him. And once the heat of the moment had passed, he appreciated that it was the sensible thing to do. He did not know the Labyrinth at all, and even with the King's help, it was still dangerous.

No, it was best to let those who patrolled the place every day to go in and search, they were more likely to be successful. It didn't make waiting any easier, mind you. But wait he did. It was all he _could_ do.

* * *

The sound of the door opening drew his attention and he stopped abruptly. Suddenly he wasn't sure he wanted to know the news. He had been a bundle of nerves all morning, and had sent Jareth off for fear of snapping at him. When he turned to face the doorway, he saw his husband-to-be standing there with an unreadable expression.

Harry's eyes held a mute appeal, and Jareth closed the door behind him.

"I won't draw this out and make you wait. Yes, they have found him. He was in an Oubliette, and is in rather poor health. One does not need food to survive in an Oubliette, but one wastes away nonetheless as one is slowly forgotten. He has been inside for a relatively short time however, so I would expect him to make a full recovery. I have done what I can, so if you would like to –" The King was cut off as Harry threw himself at him, his arms closing around him in a tight embrace.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" He mumbled into the Goblin King's neck, his voice muffled and choking with emotion. Truly, this had been a rollercoaster of a week.

"You're welcome, dear one. You may see him immediately, however I cannot join you. I must rest, healing him was… well, difficult. When someone has been trapped for that long, their spirit begins to fade and a part of them does not wish to be brought back, to be healed. It can make the process... troubling, especially since I am not a natural healer. And he was teetering on the very edge." He murmured already heading towards his bed.

"Oh! Jareth, you should have let me help! I _am_ a natural healer, well I think I am, and I –" Harry was cut off by the King this time.

"No, no. It is fine, I simply need to sleep. Perhaps I shall limit myself in the future however, to mere feats of grand conjury, and leave the healing to you." He paused to smile gently. "Go, go now and see him." He waved him away, but Harry would not leave until he had tucked his lover in and made sure he was comfortable. Just as he was drifting off, the King felt warm lips pressed against his temple, and smiled.

It was heady thing – to feel this cherished.

* * *

**_26th May, 2005_****_ – Sirius Black's Recovery Room, Jareth's Castle_**

Harry entered the room slowly, the goblin that'd shown him the way having left without a word. In fact, the fellow was rather reserved for a goblin. He, on the other hand, could barely contain himself with excitement, and yet, could not focus his eyes on the lump on the bed. His gaze kept flicking over and then away gain.

He saw something move out of the corner of his eye, and swung around, only to discover he was looking at himself, reflected back in the mirror. He stared at his reflection, and suddenly felt a moment of doubt.

_What would Sirius think of what he had become?_

Everything had happened so fast, he hadn't really taken the time to stop and study his new form. The wings were rather obvious of course, though they were tucked back for the moment. His hair was still mainly black, but had a gleam to it now that no human hair ever seemed to manage, and streaks of pure white giving his features a definite dramatic air. His eyes were still green – he'd noticed his Father – King Dellandario – had the same colour eyes. His sister and Mother – Merlin! His _Mother, _he wasn't used to that at all – both had a purplish colour.

His ears were pointy, and that was something he was sure he would never get used to! His skin was more olive than alabaster, as it had been before. His eyes were perfect, he didn't need glasses. His features weren't as sharp as his Father's, but were regular, and had a definite foreign caste to them.

Looking at his face now, there was very little, if nothing of James or Lily Potter left.

Scratch the thought of whether Sirius would accept him or not, he would be bloody lucky if he even recognised him!

A muffled moan sounded behind him and he turned to look at the figure in the bed. It was Sirius, to be sure, but he looked worse than he had when he'd escaped Azkaban. He wasn't hurt anymore, but Harry could see the effect the Oubliette had had on him.

Not for the first time in his life, Harry was struck at how unfair life could be. How good people could get dealt such a raw deal, while others, well, they just seemed to coast along, never having to worry about things some people struggled with daily.

Take Sirius, for example.

What had he ever done to deserve the life he'd led? And how could anyone believe he had turned on his friends so easily? The Potters had taken him in when his own family disowned him, just for being who he was. For being a good man. For having the courage to stand up for what he believed in.

Not only did he get sentenced to prison for something he didn't do, he then was imprisoned in his own home by his supposed friends, only to go haring off to rescue a foolish boy who loved him too much.

No, that wasn't true; he didn't love him too much. Sure, he had this new family now, and he was looking forward to getting to know them. He was already anticipating the day when it wouldn't feel weird to call the King and Queen 'Mum and Dad'. He was excited at the idea of spending time with his sister, and meeting his big brother. All those things were important, and he was under no illusions as to how lucky he was to have them.

And not forgetting Jareth. He could feel the beginnings of the deep bond he knew he would develop with that man. And he was both ecstatic and terrified about their future. He wouldn't change it for the world, mind you.

But still, all these people were important to him, they were carving their own places in his heart, but Sirius…

They were tied together by something different altogether. They had been there for each other, when no one else was, and no one else would bother with them. They had both been willing to lay down their lives for the other. That wasn't something to be taken lightly, and that left a mark on a body's soul that would never fade away.

Sirius was his best friend, his brother, his father, his _family_. Even more than those of his blood, or the Potters. They'd staked a claim on each other that would be with them till the day they died. He didn't even realise it had gone that deep until he thought that he'd lost him.

But it did, and he had, and _well_. Now, here he was.

* * *

"Whoever you are, could you stop thinking so loud? I'm trying to sleep." Sirius complained and rolled over, resettling himself under the numerous covers. Harry couldn't help himself, he laughed. Long and loud, before hurrying over to the bed.

"Hello Padfoot. How're you doing?" He asked, smiling warmly.

"H-Harry? I-Is that you?" He sat up slowly, peering into the dim light. Harry was surprised. Perhaps his voice hadn't changed that much, or perhaps his godfather simply knew. He sort of liked that idea, it was comforting.

"Yes, Sirius, it is. Don't try and strain yourself to see me for now. You've… you've been in the dark for so long, your eyes will need time to adjust. We've, well, _he_ healed you as best he could, but your body will need time to catch up with itself. Besides, I've, um, _changed_ a little since you last saw me." Harry said the last part in rush, suddenly feeling thirteen years old again.

"How long?" Demanded Sirius, and Harry shuffled his feet uncomfortably.

"Um…" He faltered, not really knowing how to answer, despite the obvious.

"How long?!" Sirius repeated louder and Harry coughed.

"Nine years." Harry said quietly.

"Pardon?" His godfather repeated, not quite sure if he heard right.

"NINE YEARS! I'm fucking twenty four now!" Harry's rage at the injustice of it all leaked into his voice, and he stalked away from the bed for a moment, trying to calm himself.

"_Nine years_. I… It didn't feel like nine years to me. It felt, I don't know. I don't really remember, I seemed to just collapse into myself…" Sirius' voice trailed off in bewilderment, and Harry muttered darkly.

"You fell through a gateway, and straight into an Oubliette. People are sent there to be forgotten. How a gateway ended up in the Ministry of Magic, I do not know. But it did, and you fell. And well, here we are." He said, turning back and sitting in a chair conveniently placed next to the bed.

"An Oubliette?" The man in the bed repeated, clearly confused.

"Yes. The Labyrinth's riddled with them. It's not _exactly_ a very friendly place, and it's only become worse, over the years. Still, perhaps things can be turned around now." The elf replied, though it did little to resolve Sirius' confusion, in fact it only made it worse. He decided to file the last few minutes of their conversation under '_Things to ask about later', _and went back to something his godson had said earlier.

"Changed a little, huh? In what way? Obviously you're a grown man now, but I'm wondering why you haven't given your Uncle Padfoot a hug yet, hmm?" He said, attempting to sound like his old self, and almost managing it.

"I…" Harry began, but then stopped. If he hugged him, there were at least two things he would notice right away. Namely, big, feathery wings, and not so big pointy ears. Well, there was no sense beating about the bush, and he was bound to find out sooner or later…

Deciding to do the Gryffindor thing and just dive right in the deep end, hoping he could swim, he launched himself at his godfather, and gave him a good squeeze.

"Um, Harry, did you get stuck halfway through an Animagus transformation?"

_"Hoo boy." _Thought Harry.

* * *

**_26th May, 2005_****_ - Main Concourse, Gringotts Bank _**

Albus Dumbledore stood near the door to the Diagon Alley branch of Gringotts. He was waiting for his colleagues to join him. They had been delayed at the Ministry of Magic, trying to obtain an order to examine Harry Potter's financial records.

The Ministry had retained control over his accounts and attached inheritances since his trial, but a special dispensation was needed for the Aurors or members of the Wizengamot to investigate his monetary comings and goings. This stipulation was added to the agreement with the Gringotts goblins _by_ the goblins themselves. They had been _extremely_ resistant in rescinding control of Harry's money away from Harry himself, since he hadn't been sentenced to Azkaban or actually convicted of any crime.

Dumbledore had been surprised at the time, but had decided it was simply their chagrin at the loss of profit the order indicated for them. After all, if Harry wasn't allowed to access his money, he would not be able to further the business interests of his family, and thus make more money for the bank and himself.

Noticing the others heading up the front steps, he moved forwards to greet them. Auror Dawlish had accompanied Auror Shacklebolt, along with Percy Weasley, who was representing the Minister. Moody and Severus approached from a different direction, having flooed from Hogwarts to the Leaky Cauldron.

After a perfunctory exchange of pleasantries, the group approached the nearest teller. Presenting Harry's keys and the signed dispensation, they waited for an answer. The teller scanned the document quickly, boredom etched into his features, before stopping abruptly.

"Sirs, you wish to access the records of Dr. Harry Potter, correct?" He asked, and Dumbledore nodded, a benevolent smile fixed in place, though inwardly chafing at the perceived delay. It didn't occur to him that the goblin was just doing his job.

"That is indeed correct." He clarified, and the goblin frowned.

"Wait here." He said shortly, before disappearing.

The assembled group waited as requested, though a few were offended by the curt manner in which they were being dealt with. Clearly they were all very busy and important, and felt they should be treated with the respect they deserved. But, that was goblins for you, or so they thought.

After an extended wait, the goblin teller returned, and ushered them into a private room. They were directed to sit in front of a large desk, behind which sat a different goblin. This one gave them a toothy smile, before speaking.

"Gentlemen, I have been informed that you wish to access the accounts belonging to Dr. Harry Potter. Is this right?" He asked and again Dumbledore nodded. "I'm afraid that this will not be possible. Those accounts have been sealed and are not accessible by any party other than the account holder or certain selected Gringotts personnel." He declared, not even bothering to hide his smug grin.

Dumbledore and his cohorts were astounded and immediately began to argue.

Griphook, the goblin in question, found this vastly entertaining, and let the silly humans bleat away futilely, trying to enforce their pathetic Ministry's order. After a while, the shouting began to get more annoying than amusing, so he decided to retake control.

"SILENCE HUMANS!" He roared, delighted by the way they jumped in their seats. "This is non-negotiable. These accounts are no longer under the jurisdiction of the British Ministry of Magic, as per _Section 14B_, _Paragraph C_, of the '_Cross Species Account Relations Agreement, 119BC_'. Your Ministry has no say here, so I suggest you leave before you embarrass yourselves further. Never have I seen such a childish display as that which I have witnessed today, in this office. Now, if you have business with your own accounts, please see one of the tellers in the main hall. Good Day, Gentlemen." He said, before waving a hand at the door.

With a _whoosh_ they found themselves unceremoniously dumped on the other side of said door, and watched it slam closed with a loud _bang_.

As the others started fussing and waxing lyrically about how they _'had never been so insulted in their lives'_, and other such rot, Severus Snape controlled the urge to laugh uproariously for the first time in a long time, and scoffed at their protestations. He had personally delivered worse insults to many of them before, and had delighted in doing so. That was not the point, however.

Clearly, something was up here, and Potter had managed to acquire himself some faithful allies. It must be _quite_ the novelty for the annoying brat. The part about being subject to the Cross Species Agreement was interesting though, he hadn't thought Potter had any creature blood in him. And it would have to be a lot, to be eligible for inclusion in that law. Maybe he was a half breed, and he had only come into his inheritance recently. It looked like Albus was equally unaware, and _that_ was more than interesting, it was most _definitely_ something to consider.

Glancing over his shoulder, he noted the satisfied look on the faces of more than one goblin, as the group he arrived with began drifting towards the doors. Deciding to take a chance, he stopped Albus who was trying to placate the Weasley brat.

"Albus, I do in fact have business of my own with the goblins. It would be foolish to waste the trip down here. I shall return to the school directly afterwards. Perhaps you could send a message if you require my counsel?" He asked.

Dumbledore nodded in a distracted way. "Yes, yes, of course Severus. I expect I shall be tied up at the Ministry for a number of hours. I will contact you when I return." He replied.

"_Contact me! Ha! Summon me more like. There are some days when I wish I had never heard of wizards." _Snape thought to himself, as he turned and strode purposefully back towards the line of tellers. Approaching the nearest one, he was not completely surprised when it beckoned in a peremptory fashion and led him to yet another private room. He wasn't very surprised either, when he was face to face with Griphook once again.

"Greetings, Professor Snape." He said, before turning his attention to some papers on his desk. In a decidedly offhand manner, he glanced up and added, "Has that phoenix tattoo on your back been giving you trouble, by any chance?" He asked.

* * *

**_24th May, 2005_****_ - Kansai International Airport, Osaka Bay_**

"Would all remaining passengers wishing to travel on flight number JL402 to London Heathrow, please proceed directly to gate number seven for immediate boarding."

That was his flight.

He was going _home_, at last.

And when he got there, things would never be the same again.

He would make sure of it.

* * *

**_26th May, 2005_** **_-Office of the Daily Prophet, Diagon Alley_**

Rita Skeeter jumped as something landed on her desk with a loud _thwack_! Glancing up she saw an owl flying off through the open window it must have entered from, clearly it had been told _not _to wait for a reply. Looking down at her desk, she was surprised to see what it had delivered.

"_DMLE File 637Ø3: Harry Potter. _My, my, my, what have we here?" She murmured to herself as she snapped it open and eagerly began to read the contents. Something struck her beady eyes almost immediately. "Current Status: _Missing_? Harry Potter is _missing_!?" She jumped out of her seat, calling out to her boss. "Chief! Chief! We've got a live one!"

* * *

**_26th May, 2005_****_ - Griphook's Private Office, Gringotts_**

Severus paused, considering his words before he spoke. "Now, why would you ask such a thing?" He said, and Griphook smiled again.

"Because mine certainly is." Came the unexpected reply from a voice he had not heard in sometime. Turning sharply in his chair, Snape laid eyes on someone he had given up on ever seeing again.

"Remus." He murmured.

"Severus." The werewolf replied.

The feelings which arose within the Potions Master at seeing this man again, threatened to overwhelm him, such was their intensity.

Since the first time they met, on the train before their first year, no one had ever affected him so strongly. And no one else ever even came close. Not even Dumbledore and all his deceptions. Whether it was the fear that he was going to tear him apart, or the complete and total desolation he felt when he thought he'd lost him, Remus was the one who reminded him he _did _have a heart.

"So, you have returned. I wonder if this is a coincidence, though something tells me it is not." He declared, hoping that his departure from his normal stoic behaviour would prompt the other man to be equally as open.

"I'm not sure. If it isn't, I certainly didn't arrange it myself. When I discovered the compulsion which had been placed on me by a certain person, I took the first available flight back to England. Our mutual friend Griphook here knew of my arrival, and persuaded me to accept the hospitality of his people. Let me be upfront with you Severus. I _know_ you have the same mark as I do, and I _know_that yours is worse because it conflicts with the Dark Mark, even though Voldemort's mark is essentially inactive. A certain person placed mine as a way of 'helping' me control my curse. I don't see _now_ how that would be possible. But at the time... well, you know better than I perhaps, how convincing he can be. Still, it seems distance was not something he considered when he branded us, and who knows how many others. When I went to the other side of the world, the structure of the spells he placed on me began to collapse, and that's when I started questioning things." Remus explained, stopping his advance across the room to sit in the chair next to Snape.

Severus himself considered what he had heard. He could imagine how a young, impressionable young man like Remus could fall for the Headmaster's schemes. Filled with gratitude over the chance he was being offered, by the generosity, he would agree with anything the man said. Much like himself. Then, only later, would he understand the slavery he had given himself up to.

"I believe I understand. Unfortunately, I have not had the opportunity to get far enough away." He lamented and Remus smiled, turning his head to face their Goblin friend, he raised an eyebrow in question.

"Ah, yes, Professor Snape. Allow me to interrupt you here, and offer my assistance." Griphook declared.

* * *

**_30th May, 2005_****_ - Near the Entrance to the Labyrinth_**

Harry and Caredessi were walking through the grounds, talking about anything which came to mind. They didn't realise how far they had gone when they came across the entrance to the giant maze known as '_The Labyrinth'_. Caredessi stopped to look at the high walls, some of them almost completely concealed by overgrown shrubs and crawling ivy.

"Don't want ta be goin' in there now." Said a voice Harry recognised.

"Hoggle!" He declared, earning himself a crooked smile from the dwarf.

"Well, remembered my name did yer? And this be your sister, eh? Would you like to see my doorknob collection? I have more than three thousand!" He said, looking questioningly at the two elves. Brother and sister exchanged cautious glances, before Harry shrugged.

"Where did you get them all from?" Asked Caredessi curiously.

"I don't really remember, but there's a heck of people having trouble tryin' to open their doors!" He replied cheerfully and the siblings couldn't help laughing.

They had tea and what looked like scones with the dwarf in his little hut, and Harry was again assaulted by memories of Hagrid. Those memories stirred the melancholy which had been with him since his arrest, but which he had thought he'd begun to put behind him. His sister was quick to notice, and when they were on their way back to the castle, she questioned him on it.

"What has made you so sad brother?" She asked, linking her arm with his and Harry shrugged.

"You know about what the wizards did to me, yes?" At her answering nod, he continued. "Well, when I was little, I didn't know I was a wizard too. I mean, I know now I'm not really but, anyway. My Aunt and Uncle didn't like me very much, and my life with them, let's just say, it wasn't a happy one."

Once inside, they traversed the long hallways and into the apartments their family shared. Deciding it was still a nice day, they sat in some chairs which had been placed on one of the larger balconies, the younger elf still telling his story. The two of them barely noticed when their parents and Harry's godfather joined them. Harry was describing his life with the Dursleys, Caredessi listening with growing horror which she hid poorly.

"And then one day, midnight on my eleventh birthday, in fact, a huge man came to the door, told me I was a wizard. Suddenly, a whole new world had opened up before me. I was dazzled and excited, scared and joyous all rolled into one. So anyway, that man was called Rubeus Hagrid and throughout all my years at Hogwarts, he always stood by me. No matter what everyone else was saying or thought of me, he always believed in me. I really thought, when they arrested me, I thought that he would be there. Not to speak up for me, or anything, but just send a letter or one of his horrible rock cakes. Something like that. But he didn't, and I...Well. Hoggle is a lot like Hagrid. And his hut is like Hagrid's. And his horrible tea and cakes are just like Hagrid's too." He paused, looking down at his feet.

"And it brought it all back. I wish I could have been there for you Harry. I don't know what the people in that world are thinking! And don't get me started on those Weasleys! And that Granger girl! Grrrr!" Sirius actually growled and Harry couldn't help laughing.

The man's magic had been returning to him slowly over the last few days, and Harry was overjoyed when he found out that his family had been helping the healing process along. They had accepted Sirius as some kind of kin when they discovered the relationship between him and their long lost son. So had the other Avariel, and their gentle way of approaching nature had done more to soothe the older man's spirit than anything he had tried in the past. He still had a long way to go, but Harry could actually see that he _would_ make it. Unlike when he had escaped from Azkaban and had been forced to hide in Grimmauld Place.

There, the haunting reminders of his family and their darkness far outweighed any of the positive points about having his rather dubious freedom. But the Underground was so alien and distant from that world, that it seemed like he had truly relaxed, for probably the first time in more than twenty years.

"You do not know his side of the story though son, and while you should not harbour false hope, perhaps, in the future, you will be able to speak with your large friend and clarify this issue with him." Said Dellandario and Harry nodded.

"Perhaps Father, perhaps." He replied.

They talked of less ominous things for a time. Harry got to hear embarrassing stories about his sister as a baby, and a few fond remembrances of his own brief time with his birth parents. The mood gradually grew better, and Harry's sadness began to fade slightly. They were interrupted by the arrival of one of Jareth's goblins.

"Your Majesties, Your Highnesses. The King requests your presence in the throne room, to greet some unexpected visitors. He bids you come immediately." The goblin bowed backed away to stand near the door. Exchanging curious glances with his family, Harry shrugged and stood.

"Unexpected visitors? Why do I get the feeling this _isn't _one of the worms popping round for a cup of tea?" He murmured to himself.

* * *

**_30th May, 2005_****_ - Jareth's Throne Room, The Castle Beyond the Goblin City_**

"...Forgive me, You Majesty. I realise this is a gross impertinence on my part, but when my associates and I weighed our alternatives, this seemed the most expedient route."

The voice of the person speaking, was stiff with pride. Clearly not someone who was used to any kind of contrition. Harry and the others entered the throne room quietly, moving silently on the periphery of the action being played out before them. Wordlessly, Harry took his seat at his King's side, his mother and father seating themselves in their 'guest' thrones. The other people arranged themselves how they wished, and all eyes fell onto the 'unexpected visitors'.

The visitors were in fact Griphook, a rather regal looking goblin and what must be some of their cronies. On first observation, Harry assumed that this must be Chief Ragnok, and Jareth's next words confirmed this.

"Ragnok, normally this would be an unforgivable infraction. However, these are strange times, and I do not believe in alienating my friends and allies in a time when I will need them most. Not for the sake of tradition, or overblown courtesies. Do not misunderstand me - I do not imply that these things are unimportant - they are _very _important, but not always appropriate. Come, my old friend. Let us not stand on ceremony. Bring seats for the Chief and his entourage!" The Goblin King ordered, and a brief look of relief showed on the Gringotts goblins faces, before it was quickly masked.

Once they were suitably seated and provided with the necessary refreshments, their conversation continued. Though, in a less formal manner than before.

"Tell me, Your Majesty, I notice the young Avariel seated at your side. His position suggests you have found your mate, and yet, Griphook has indicated to me that he is also the wizard once known as Harry Potter. Is this true?" Ragnok asked, his curiosity obviously getting the better of him.

"Aye, 'Tis true. And a long, convoluted tale it is as well. Let me explain. No, actually, that will take more time than we have. So, let me summarise†. My mate here, was born Elessar Devoryn, son of Dellandario and Enaberia Devoryn, Prince of Faenya-Dail. Faenya-Dail is the city-state of the Avariel here in the Underground." He added at the confused look from some of the goblin entourage. "He was stolen by wizards as an infant, kept in some kind of stasis - we believe - and then given to Lily and James Potter as a baby. Somehow his elven nature was bound within him and he appeared human. You know what happened next, and how he came to be here, so I need not explain it again." Jareth sat back after he had finished speaking, and regarded his long-time friend to watch his reaction.

"It is distressing news. From what I know of the Potters, it is easy to guess who perpetrated these crimes, or at the very least, would have knowledge of those involved. That is one of the reasons for my unprecedented and unannounced visit. We have in our company two earth wizards-" Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by angry hisses and murmurs from some of the Avariel present. Ragnok held up a gnarled hand in protest and the mutterings died down. "Before you judge, they have both been through terrible ordeals at the hands of other wizards, and have a great deal of information to share about past crimes against the former Harry Potter, and future schemes. Fearing for their safety were they to remain within the sphere of control of the wizards, we brought them here. They are willing to earn their keep, as I believe the expression goes. They merely wish for a hearing, Your Majesty. What say you?" The goblin chief asked, and waited for a reply.

Jareth looked at Harry. Long and hard, wondering what would be best for them. For their people. For both of them now had a responsibility over the subjects who for millennia, had been Jareth's alone. Harry was to essentially be their Queen - _though he sincerely doubted he would escape with his dignity intact if he ever tried to call Harry his Queen_ - there were risks to be considered.

On the other hand, healing might not be his forte, he _did_ rather excel in other realms of magic, and felt sure he could protect his mate from a mere measly _two _wizards.

Still looking at Harry, he raised and eyebrow in question. Harry shrugged, and then nodded, turning to exchange a curious glance with his godfather. Both seemed to wonder at the possible identities of these wizards. They had their suspicions, but could not be sure by any means of who it would be.

"Very well. They shall have their hearing. Show them in." Jareth declared, leaning back in his throne, and claiming possession over one of Harry's hands.

Harry, for his part, was not complaining. He rather found the touch comforting. Not that he was particularly nervous, or anything like that. He had his family, new and old, and his lover by his side after all. What need he fear of these wizards? It wasn't like they would probably even recognise him. But the casual gesture was akin to an affirmation of the everydayness of their relationship.

Open, established, and _normal_.

It was a novelty to be sure, for one such as he.

* * *

Severus Snape and Remus Lupin waited quietly with varying degrees of anxiety and frustration.

Remus was the one feeling rather more anxious than frustrated, being in a new world and everything. Despite all the years he had lived with his condition, he always worried when he went somewhere new. Especially if he had no prior knowledge of the place and its views on so-called 'Dark Creatures', like werewolves. He was also frustrated with Severus, for though they had been reunited for a number of days now, the man was still resolutely keeping his distance.

He supposed he could hardly blame him; theirs had been a tumultuous and tempestuous relationship from the start. It had begun in their teenage years, and to a point it was still coloured by their adolescent natures. In his more melodramatic moments, Remus thought of theirs as a classic 'doomed love'. They were continually being thrown apart by circumstances, and more often than not - each other. Goodness knew they were both incredibly stubborn when they wanted to be, though Severus was still more inflexible than he.

Remus did wonder at times, what kept them coming back to each other.

Though werewolves mated for life and the two of them _were_ bonded, it did not force them into any kind of specific proximity. His waning strength and tendency to sickliness _was_ caused by their frequent separations however, and a lot of those separations were involuntary. If left too long apart, the bond would snap. This would be very painful for both of them, but not deadly.

Remus actually believed that most of their absences from the other were either contrived or arranged, by a certain person, to ensure their bond never grew too strong. If it was given the chance, it would override any previous or subsequent claims made on either of them. Dark Mark or Phoenix Mark, it would not matter. They would only belong to themselves, and each other. No one else could claim their loyalty.

If he could get Severus to sit still long enough to compare notes and excuses, he was sure he could actually substantiate his theory. But unfortunately, Severus had taken up his favourite past time - other than potions or being sneaky of course. He was pacing.

Back and forth, back and forth, like a demented yo-yo.

The werewolf sighed again, and tried to wait patiently for someone to come and either turf them out or call them into the room their goblin escort had disappeared into a while ago. Other goblins, who didn't seem quite as intelligent as the ones they were used, to, rather the Crabbe and Goyles of the goblin world, were watching over them. If you could call it that of course. They seemed to be playing some bizarre game involving dice and fish sticks. Neither wizard really wanted to know what it was all about, so they just let their guards get on with it. The little blighters _did_ seem to be enjoying themselves though.

"King say bring 'em!" A loud voice interrupted the game and the two men found themselves shoved up out of their chairs and pushed, rather rudely with some nasty looking pointy spears, towards the aforementioned doors.

"Tell me Remus, why did we come here again?" Severus murmured wryly as the doors were opened.

"Well, I believe it was because... SIRIUS?!?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter, Labyrinth or anything else you recognise. **

**A/N: This is the re-edited version of the original. Just so minor changes. Thanks to SeulWolfe for beta-reading, and thanks to everyone who reviewed.**

* * *

Chapter Nine

* * *

_"I can bear it no longer! Goblin King! Goblin King! Wherever you may be, take this child of mine far away from me!"_

_

* * *

_

**_30th May, 2005_****_ - The Morning Room, Malfoy Manor_**

Draco Malfoy was sitting quietly at the ornately laid out breakfast table, absently flicking though his post. Laying aside the usual invitations and trite letters of false friendship with an eloquent sigh, he reached for the '_Daily Prophet'. _The front page held the glaring headline, '_Harry Potter: Missing_'. Snorting into his coffee, he scanned it briefly.

It was full of the usual rants of the ill-educated, and speculated feverishly on what plans the Defeater of Voldemort might be making in secret. Truthfully, he could not find any mentions of concern over his possible plight, just condemnation. No change there then.

"Sensationalist rubbish." He muttered to himself, before turning the page. Close to the Quidditch section, he found a small article which made him gasp in surprise: "_Ministry to pass law requiring all wizards and witches with creature blood to register."_

This was definitely not good.

* * *

**_30th May, 2005_****_ - Lucius Malfoy's Bedroom, Malfoy Manor_**

Draco closed the door quietly behind him as he entered his father's bedroom. His since he was a child, this room, which was once a safe haven from his horrible shrew of a wife, had become his sickroom.

Though he had tried to conceal it for many months, the time came when Lucius Malfoy could no longer hide his condition from his son. Despite a blazing row, Draco had eventually got his way and was allowed to summon the family healer. Discretion was the name of the game when it came to dealing with the Malfoy family, and their healer was paid handsomely for his silence. Doctor - patient confidentiality was not as sacred in the wizard world as it was in the muggle.

The diagnosis was not an easy one, but the cause of his father's illness was eventually found. With the help of long time family friend, Severus Snape, it was discovered that the erstwhile Mrs Malfoy, now deceased, had administered a potion to Lucius to force him to marry her. The reason she had done this, was because of a fact not generally known.

The Malfoys were _veela_.

Only the men, that was. For some reason, the veela strain bred true in every male in the Malfoy line, and their wives always gave birth to sons. Various Malfoy lords had considered the problem over the years, and decided that it was most likely put in place by some fore thinking ancestor of theirs.

Veela, have only one mate. One mate who will make them happy for the rest of their lives, and who they will strive with every fibre of their being to please and care for. Narcissa Black had her eyes on the Malfoy fortune, and at a young age, had decided she liked the idea of being a veela's mate. When she found out about the Malfoy heir's veela status, purely by accident, she began to scheme.

She devised a potion to fool the veela into thinking she was its mate. It was successful. What she didn't know, was that she had also administered a poison. A very slow-acting, but nonetheless _lethal_ concoction. Every cell in his body was dependent on their bond. While she lived, her presence could delay its effects. But now she was dead, he was beginning to break down. Only one thing could save him - a bond with his true mate.

But since his true mate had died in the Department of Mysteries nearly nine years ago, all hope was gone.

* * *

"Father?" Draco called softly as he approached the figure in the bed.

A mere shadow of his former self, Lucius turned slowly to face his son. Wincing inwardly at the sight of his father's emaciated body, Draco adopted a bright smile and made himself comfortable on the bed. Placing the paper on the bedside table for the moment, Draco helped his father manoeuvre himself until he was half lying across his lap, his head pillowed against his son's chest.

"I'm afraid there isn't anything very interesting in the _Prophet _this morning. Potter has gone and lost himself, and the whole world is a-twitter about it. Personally, I hope he _is _about to launch his terror campaign on the rest of the world. We could do with a good laugh these days, and one can only imagine how un-terrifying his minions would be. There's an interesting editorial on what's the matter with English Quidditch." Draco went on to read said editorial to his father, his voice soft and soothing, one hand continually running through his long, white blond hair. Sadly, it was not as beautiful as it once was, and every now and then, Draco would draw his hand through his father's hair only to have clumps of it come away in his hand.

It was breaking his heart to watch his father, his hero, slowly deteriorate.

After his mother died in the war which ended Voldemort, they had four glorious years where father and son discovered the real people behind their masks and formed a bond that went deeper than any others they'd had in their lives. Then, gradually, as the years went on, the cracks in Lucius' health began to show, and for the last two years, he had been confined to this house, and this bed. He hadn't protested when his father insisted on moving back into the room he had lived in as a child, and away from the bed he'd shared with that bitch. All things considered, it was the least he could do.

"Draco! We must do something - you cannot let them know about your heritage!" Lucius scratchy voice intruded on Draco's introspection, and he looked down to see he had left the paper open on the page about the creature registration. "You cannot let them control you! Not like..."

"Sssh... don't strain yourself, Father. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about this myself. I have a habit of trying to coddle you, I know. But can you blame me? Still, never mind. What do you suggest then?" He asked.

Lucius paused to gather himself. It wasn't like he couldn't read for himself, or talk for himself, but these things left him immensely tired. He sometimes wished that the end would just come, as he lay prone in his Manor, unable to move some days, and unable to experience life firsthand any more. He could not allow the chance that the Ministry would find out about their veela blood, and force a mating for Draco the way Narcissa did for him.

"Go to the library. In the far corner, against the wall..."

* * *

**_30th May, 2005_****_ - Jareth's Throne Room, The Castle Beyond the Goblin City_**

Silence.

And then: "What the bloody hell is Black doing here?"

Ah, so Severus Snape's behaviour had reverted to type. Remus scowled at him briefly, before turning back to face his friend. The friend he had thought was long since dead.

"You - you've been _here_? With these people? And let us think you were dead? Sirius, I don't understand!" Remus visibly deflated, a confused and hurt frown marring his face. Without even thinking, Severus did something wholly out of character - he reached out an arm and pulled the werewolf to his side. Remus turned to face his sometime lover, needing whatever comfort he was offering.

"It's not like that Remus! I didn't even know where I was, or how long I had been away, until recently. Please don't think I just abandoned you all, I didn't! I promise! I didn't!" Desperation tinged Sirius' voice as he stepped forwards from behind Harry's throne.

"Wah-Wha...Well, what happened? I mean, how are you here? And where is here anyway?!? And... is it even you? You might just be some kind of impostor, or, or something, or... _Christ_!" Remus was running his hands through his hair agitatedly, and Severus wasn't having much luck in trying to calm him. Possibly because he was pretty confused and angry himself. His feelings were most likely feeding Lupin's through their bond.

Sirius was only a few feet away, and he seemed at a loss as what to do as well. Sparing a glance for the other people in the room, he noticed that most of them were silent. Silent, and impassive. They were simply watching. All except for the winged, elvish looking creature next to the one who Ragnok had named as the King.

That one appeared to be fighting between staying in his seat and leaping up to intervene. He must have noticed Severus' scrutiny, for he caught his eye, and maintaining the contact, he leaned towards the King to whisper something. He received a nod in the affirmative, and stood. Most of the other people in the room turned their attention to him, and Snape could detect the obvious reverence in their gazes.

The creature's wings spread and seemed to shake themselves out, before tucking back behind him. Almost as if he was bracing himself. "_Interesting."_ Thought Severus. Without really understanding why, he waited calmly and allowed the creature, or man, or elf, or _whatever_, to approach and lay hands on Remus, unchallenged. Not only did he strike him as entirely unthreatening, there was also an aura of calm and peace which radiated outwards from him, and soothed the part of himself which was tied to Remus' wolf.

Though he did not transform, he had taken on some of wolfish qualities since he had joined with the werewolf so long ago. When they were so young. He often scolded himself and his lover for their foolishness, particularly in his more maudlin moments, for forming such a life-changing bond when they were too young to understand it.

But at the same time, he took heart in the fact that he was never truly alone. Though it was rather small, he was part of a pack. And that was something which would be with him until the day he died. Such a thought gave him solace, when it felt like the world was turning its back on him. Which it seemed to do more often than not.

Shaking himself from his brooding, he focused back on his mate, and the emotions now flowing smoothly through the link. In fact, it felt stronger than it had done in some time, and he realised it was because of something the winged man had done.

Physically, Remus was looking a little less tired, and overwrought. His frantic questioning of a few moments ago was evidently forgotten. At least, for the time being.

"Gentlemen, the King has allowed me to explain, so please listen closely. You are not on Earth as you know it any longer. This is the Underground. It exists in a time and space linked to the Earth, but it is not governed by the Earth or its people. My Liege, King Jareth, is ruler here. There are many gateways from your world to here, and Sirius fell through one of those. It was not discovered until a few days ago, and he has been in a kind of prison until then. Please do not treat him harshly for circumstances beyond his control." The voice was familiar, but it had a melodic quality to it which raised the spirit of the listener.

Remus and Severus found themselves agreeing before they even realised it.

"I think perhaps this reunion should take place in less formal surroundings." Harry said, not wanting to do the big reveal in front of so many of his people. "If My Liege agrees, we can move elsewhere?" He suggested, looking back to Jareth with a plea in his eyes.

A smile answered him, and he smiled in return. Jareth stood and gestured to an underling, who bowed and then scurried out of the room.

"A sterling idea, Elessar." He said, using Harry's birth name so as not to divulge his secret sooner than he would wish to. Though, thinking about it, the Goblin King realised that delaying it a few minutes probably would not make it any easier. But going along with Harry's wishes, and letting him handle this _his_ way, instead of merely dictating to himAs both King and lover, he needs must walk a fine line. "Ragnok, perhaps we should reconvene in your usual suite. Elessar and I have some small, but pressing matters to attend to. No doubt you are tired from your journey and would like to refresh yourselves, yes?" Jareth asked, raising an eyebrow.

Not one to miss a trick, Ragnok nodded and started directing his people. "An excellent idea, Your Majesty. We shall see you in, say, an hour?" He suggested, and the King signalled his assent.

* * *

**_30th May, 2005_****_ - Jareth's Bedroom, The Castle Beyond the Goblin City_**

Jareth watched as Harry began circling the room again, and sighed audibly. He supposed it was not such a bad way for him to express his agitation, but it was rather frustrating to watch.

"Does this endless wandering serve to soothe your frazzled nerves, melisse? Or does it simply help you to work yourself into a worse state of mind?" He asked, partly curious and partly in an effort to stop the restless display. It worked, as Harry turned abruptly with a puzzled frown.

"What did you just say?" He questioned, though not angrily. Jareth sighed again.

"I asked you if your circling..."

"No, not that. What was that word, _melisse_? It feels as if I should know what that means." Harry said, the lines of his face taut with concentration. After a moment, he gave up and shrugged.

"Oh, as well you should. It is elvish, your native tongue. I learned it long ago, when I was but a boy. It is a beautiful language, and I thought it would be nice to teach you, if you would like. '_Melisse'_, means, 'my lover'." Jareth replied, his explanation earning him a bright and excited smile in return.

"Why I, yes! That would be wonderful. Wow! I didn't even think of that. Caredessi said she would help with flying and things. But I hadn't - ah - I'm babbling. How shall we begin?" He demanded eagerly, perching on the edge of the bed and presenting his lover with a suitably attentive expression on his face.

The Goblin King couldn't help himself, he smiled, his slow burn, yet slightly sly smile and stepped closer.

"How about we try something, a little _different_, hmm?" He couldn't stop himself from letting a not-so-subtle hint of seduction into his voice. His Harry was offering far too tempting a picture sitting where he was, and looking at him the way he was.

Flushing slightly, and not feeling at all ashamed about it, Harry cocked his head to the side and considered his King. "Well now, what do you suggest, my liege?" He asked, eyes wide, appearing far more innocent that he really was.

"How about you say something in the common tongue and I will translate it into elvish for you?"

Harry paused to consider it, before nodding. Jareth smiled and the former wizard took the opportunity to study his fae lover. There was a lightness about his eyes that had not been there when they had first met. He knew he could claim no small part of bringing that about, and it both humbled and delighted him when he thought of it. He decided to take a leap of faith. Harry stood and placed his hands on either side of Jareth's neck and looked him right in the eyes.

"I love you."

The King's sharp intake of breath was almost deafening in the silent room, but he did not break the other man's gaze.

"Amin mela lle" He replied, and Harry's grin was in danger of splitting his face. He did not stop there however.

"Kiss me." Jareth smirked and pulled his prince closer.

"Miqula en amin" He said, pressing his lips against the elf's and drawing him in for a kiss that was soft and slow, yet had a power and meaning behind it that rocked Harry to his very foundations. Afterwards, breathless, his forehead resting against the King's, he spoke again.

"Make love to me."

_"Karenela en amin."_

* * *

Sometime later, Harry awoke, still securely tucked in his husband-to-be's arms. He was tired, but happy. He supposed there wasn't much more from life that one could ask for. Despite having only known the man for just over a week, he was content, and sure in his feelings. Yes, right now, he was _happy_.

And then he remembered the people they had to see.

The explanations they would want, and the drudging up of memories he did not care to relive. There would also be the endless _questions_. Most likely they would be the questions he himself needed answers to - answers he just didn't have. He sighed, and burrowed a little closer into Jareth's chest.

"What is it a'mael" He heard the King's voice rumble in his chest, still rough with sleep. Harry wasn't sure what the endearment meant, but he liked the sound of it.

"Just... those people from the past. I was sort of hoping none of them would intrude on me here. On us. I mean, Sirius doesn't count, because he wasn't there when... well you know. I really don't feel the need to have some big reckoning with them, with any of them. And I don't like the direction I think all this could be heading in. Do you understand what I mean? I don't think I'm expressing myself very articulately!" Harry twisted his head so he could look up into Jareth's face. Said face was smiling softly and he felt reassured at the sight.

"I _do_ know what you are trying to say, and believe me, I would like nothing better than to tell you that everything will work itself out, and you will be spared more of the heartache you've already suffered in your short life. But that would not be true, and it would be unfair to you. So, I will simply say this: no matter what happens, I will always be here for you. You are 'Alasse'amin' My joy." Seeing the disbelief in his young lover's face, and knowing where this lack of self worth originated from, he sat up and prepared to drive his point home.

Holding his prince's shoulders he fixed him with a determined look.

"Jareth..." Harry began, but the King interrupted him.

"No, listen. Harry, just now, I had a dream. I dreamt of you. You were wandering through ash and debris, yet everywhere your feet touched, beautiful blossoms sprouted and grew. Soon the char and detritus disappeared and all around was renewed and alive once more. Harry, you were walking through my heart." Jareth searched the other man's gaze desperately, for despite his earlier declaration, he needed to know now, if his mate loved him.

"I - that was - so beautiful, I..." His voiced faltered and he yanked the fae in front of him into his arms, and kissed him wildly, frantically. When he paused, he whispered softly:_ "Amin mela lle."_

* * *

**_30th May, 2005_****_ - The Living Room, Ragnok's Usual Suite_**

Each person seated in the large, airy room had their own ideas about all the other people seated in the large, airy room. Ragnok's usual suite was on one of the higher levels of the castle, and faced away from the entrance. The castle was built on top of a hill, the back end of which dropped away into a steep cliff. As such, the windows were larger and let in a lot more light than the ones on the front of the building, which were designed with a mind to defending the place. Not that it needed to be defended in the traditional manner, considering who the owner was, but even the fae were not eternal and the castle was not built by them originally.

Remus was agog at all the new sights and sounds and faces. He spent most of the last hour with Sirius, trying to cram in as much of the last nine years of each other's personal histories. Severus had been mainly silent since his initial reaction to the revelation of Sirius being alive. He'd been sizing up the people they'd encountered since they arrived, and found himself fascinated by the difference between the two races of goblins. He hadn't tried very hard to have any conversations with any of the local goblins, but observing them for the last hour or so had been rather amusing.

The various elves he had seen around were slightly disconcerting however. The way they stared at people, almost as if they weren't really seeing them, could be just a tad unnerving. He speculated that this was the way they treated outsiders, and until they were accepted and trusted, they would be kept at a distance. This was something he could appreciate, being who he was, and so he wasn't offended by it. He hadn't seen hide nor hair of either the King of this strange place, nor the particular elf who had cut in earlier during the almost-argument between the two marauders. But that was to be expected, considering he had said they had things to attend to.

Feeling restless, Severus rose from his chair and made his way over to one of the windows. He gazed out idly for a moment, before his attention was drawn to a group of goblin children playing some kind of game in the gardens below. He was a little too high up to see clearly, but they appeared to be playing something akin to a muggle game of rounders! _Of all things_!

The sound of the door opening and a sharp signal from Remus had him back in his chair, his usual stony expression firmly in place. He pointedly ignored the mangy mutt sitting on the other side of his on-off-and-on-again lover, and waited for whatever was to come.

* * *

Entering the room and coming face to face with his former potions professor was more daunting than Harry cared to admit. It was almost as if he represented the life which was stolen from him, not that he had personally played any part in what had been done to him. In fact he had been conspicuously absent during most of the proceedings. Even so, he suddenly felt like his eleven year old self, the self that was thrust into a new world he knew nothing about, and yet everyone expected him to shine.

At least Snape had disabused him of _that_ notion.

A gentle touch to the small of his back reminded him just where he was, and who he was with, and he turned to greet the amused look in his beloved's eyes. Steeling himself for the inevitable histrionics, he squared his shoulders and faced the room once more.

"Because there are so many different things going on beneath the surface of this situation, my liege here has suggested that we all reveal what we know and then go from there. Do you agree?" Harry asked, looking between the faces of the people in the room. He received supporting smiles from his mother and sister, and a silent nod from his brother in law. His father stood and moved to stand next to him.

Placing a hand on his son's shoulder, Dellandario made his opinion known. "Son, I agree. We need to be honest with each other if we wish to form any kind of co-operation. Would you like to tell them, or shall I?"

Harry hesitated for a moment, and then shrugged. "Why not? Go ahead, father." He replied, noticing the unreadable expression on Sirius' face. He had had a few days to get used to the idea of Harry not being James' biological son, but it must still seem a bit strange to him. He offered a hopeful smile and his godfather sent back a cheeky grin. Clearly, he was looking forward to a certain person's reaction to the news.

"As some of you may already know, this is my son, Elessar, Prince of Faenya-Dail. I am King Dellandario, ruler of the Avariel. As you can probably see, we are winged elves. Our ancestors fled to this land when we were being hunted for sport and slavery. King Jareth here, offered us his protection and helped us build our city state of Faenya-Dail. Elessar is the youngest of my children, born over two hundred of your earth years ago. He was kidnapped when he was still a babe and held by some of your _wizards_." Dellandario fairly spat the word 'wizards', apparently not being in a forgiving type mood.

He went on. "He was returned to us recently by our liege, Jareth, having been used as a tool in your human wars and then discarded. We are overjoyed to have him back, but let it be known that we _will_ _not_ suffer any further attempts to abuse his person, and will meet any threat with the appropriate force." The elven King was breathing heavily by the end of his speech and none present doubted the truth of his words.

Harry placed a hand on his father's arm, and Dellandario responded by grasping his youngest son's hand tightly. Harry looked at his two former professors searchingly for a moment, before speaking. "I _am _Elessar Devoryn, but you knew me as Harry Potter."

There was silence for a moment, and then a solid thunk-thunk-thunk sound permeated the room, as Snape began banging his head on the windowsill behind him.

Remus was flabbergasted, but after glancing briefly at Harry in shock, he turned his attention to the potions professor who seemed to be bent on bashing his own head in. He was muttering away to himself vehemently, and Remus could only catch a few words.

"... Cursed!... Blasted brat!... Can't get away!... Alien world!"

Remus managed to stop him from banging his head, but only by holding his forehead in a vice like grip. "I - Um, it looks like Severus is going to need a moment or two. I think I will as well. Are you - are you really Harry?" He asked, his voice wavering slightly.

Harry's heart strings were pulled, but instead of rushing over, he steeled himself remembering how neither of them did anything when his magic was stolen, and how he hadn't heard from Remus in years. True, he had helped him that one time in the Burrow...

"Yes, I _was_ him. At least, I was made out to _be_ him, but I never truly was, inside. Professor Snape, you may have hated me as a child, you may have hated James Potter, but I was never who you thought me to be. I would be willing to begin again, anew, with both of you, if you are willing to explain something to me." Harry crossed his arms, and looked down at them with a firm stare.

Snape had given up trying to get control of his head away from the werewolf, but Remus was still holding on distractedly. He frowned at his former student.

"What is it you want us to explain, H - Elessar?" He asked, with a certain trepidation.

"Why did you abandon me?"

* * *

"Ah, now there's a question. And one without a simple answer. Severus and I, well to differing degrees, we have been _ensorcelled_. It's and old fashion term, but it comes the closest to explaining what has been happening in our lives. I really don't think we have the time to go into details now, nor do I wish to. However, I will explain this: we didn't abandon you willingly. Both of us have been marked in a similar way to the way Voldemort marks his followers. And it's only been in the last week that we have been able to scramble free. That is why we are here." Remus finished with a broken look, somewhere between misery and bitterness. Snape just looked pissed off, as was his norm.

"I - It never occurred to me that he would - I - who am I kidding? Of _course_ he would! It only makes more sense now. After all, if he can set me up to be his scapegoat in a war which is nothing to do to me, then he could quite happily steal the free will of a few other people. I _am _going to need more than that though, and soon. For now, may I see the marks, if you still have them?" Harry asked, and the two men stared at him for a long moment.

"Very well." Replied Severus, and after a slight pause, Remus nodded too.

Both of them felt a little uncomfortable taking off their robes in company, but in short order they exposed the tattoos which were now deactivated, but still marred their skin. Before either of them had time to react, Harry placed a hand over each one and concentrated. A blue glow appeared around his fingers, and after a few seconds, when he removed his hand, the marks were gone. All that remained was smooth, unblemished skin.

Without asking or being asked, Harry tugged up the sleeve of Severus' shirt, and did the same to the Dark Mark. When he had finished, he looked up and laughed aloud at the disgruntled expression on his old teacher's face.

"I see you have lost none of your audacity P-Devoryn." He sniffed and Harry chuckled again.

"Hmm. You know, if you wish to refer to me formally, you should call me 'Your Highness'. What you just said was terribly familiar." He declared, with an impish grin. Snape snorted and turned away, muttering about impertinent brats. Harry's brother in law looked a little offended, as did his father, but knowing much more about these people from Harry's stories than the other two, his mother and sister simply shrugged. They understood it was just the potions master's way.

With the veritable bombshell out of the way, the large group resumed their seats and began speaking of less weightier subjects. An hour or so later, Harry noticed Jareth stiffen slightly next to him. He turned a questioning gaze his way and waited.

"Beloved, it seems some foolish mortal had deigned to wish his life away. Can you hear the plea?" He asked and Harry concentrated. After a moment he jumped slightly in surprise. He could hear and all-too familiar voice in the back of his mind.

_"I-I wish the Goblin King would come and take us away, right now! _

The rest of the group jumped in surprise when they heard the usually softly spoken prince groan at the top of his voice: "Not MALFOY!?!"


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Labyrinth, Harry Potter or anything else you recognise.**

**A/N: Again with the editing. Thanks for reviewing people – I do appreciate it. And, as always, thanks to SeulWolfe for beta-reading.**

* * *

Chapter Ten

* * *

_"So, the Labyrinth's a piece of cake, is it? Well, let's see how you deal with this little slice!"_

* * *

**_30th May, 2005_****_ - Jareth's Bedroom, The Castle Beyond the Goblin City_**

"Wha-What do you mean, Malfoy? How do you know it's him?" Severus asked sharply, and Harry shrugged. Jareth glanced at him briefly before replying.

"The name is intuited through the magic of the call. This 'Malfoy' person is calling to be brought here. In fact, he said 'us', which leads me to believe he would like me to remove more than himself. Excuse us." He said rising, and holding a hand out to Harry.

"But why-" Severus cowered under the stern gaze the Goblin King directed at him.

"Do not forget your place, _wizard_." He all but snarled, and Harry was reminded of the man his lover could be. He was not frightened though, because he knew that this was merely another side to the man's complex personality. A King sometimes needed to be harsh and commanding, and so he was. In fact, he found the air of command and power his King was displaying rather arousing.

They left the room in silence. After a lengthy pause, Sirius also left, and Severus slumped slightly in his seat, clearly about to launch into a sulk, if wasn't there already.

"Severus, don't start." Warned Remus, earning himself a harsh glare from the other man. "I mean it." Remus added firmly and Severus shifted in his chair again.

"But aren't you curious about why he - " He began but was cut off.

"Of course I am, but now is not the time." The werewolf replied, glancing at the stony faces of the elves still present in the room. The way they were staring was making him nervous.

Severus followed his gaze and slumped again. He was used to not being wanted; he didn't really think it would be any different here. Well, perhaps privately he could admit to himself that a bit of... _appreciation_, would not go amiss. It would be.._. nice_ to be _appreciated_. Welcomed, even. For once. But such self pitying was unbecoming, and so he kept silent.

A gentle hand on his shoulder and a soft smile to accompany it reminded him that he _was _welcomed, and _loved_ as well, hard to believe though it may seem. If these _people_ did not want him then so be it. He had his wolf back now, after all. All he has to do was reach out to him, and that wasn't so hard to do.

And best of all, there was no Dumbledore this time to say him nay.

* * *

"The presence of these _others_, these _wizards_, worries me." Declared Enaberia in elvish. Her tones were hushed, but in the silence of the room, everyone could hear her, though few could understand. 

"I do not like them." Said Elalaeryn. This gave the rest of the family pause. Elalaeryn did not speak often, preferring to listen and observe. That was not so unusual for an elven ranger, but Caredessi's husband was more taciturn than most. So, when he _did _speak, everyone paid attention.

"I agree, that they could be a danger. But we must trust that Jareth knows what he is about. They are under his control here, and I think they are well aware of that fact. Especially after the words he had with the dark one there." Dellandario replied, and his family nodded. Enaberia leaned forward.

"That may be so, but I cannot relax until they have proven they are trustworthy. I would feel even better, if Talemario was here." She turned imploring eyes on her husband. "Do say he may join us here, darling! Your steward can easily take care of the kingdom while he is absent. I need to have all my children near me, and I _know_ he would want to meet his little brother." She beseeched, her desperation evident in her voice.

The King sighed and quickly scanned the faces of his family, to see if they too wished this thing. They obviously did, since Caredessi even game him an eager nod, and her husband merely shrugged. "Please father," Began the Princess, "Say he can come? I do miss him, and I know he and Elessar would get on well together." She added. Elalaeryn bestirred himself for a second time that day to say his piece as well.

"This is a special time, though a troubling one. The family needs to be whole, Talemario must come." He said and Dellandario sighed again.

"As you would have it." He agreed, and signalled a servant. Writing a quick note on a pen and paper supplied by another aide, he gave the message to one of his best men.

"Take this to my son in Faenya-Dail. Tell him we miss him and hope he can join us as soon as possible." He ordered, and the messenger nodded. Throwing the window open, it was not long before he was on his way to his home, to bring Harry's big brother to Jareth's castle.

* * *

**_30th May, 2005_****_ - The Throne Room, The Castle Beyond The Goblin City_**

"So, do you always bring the wisher's into the throne room? Or is it just the 'wishees'?" Harry paused frowning, before giving his lover a crooked smile. "Am I making any sense? Because I was just listening to myself in my head, and _I_ couldn't understand what I was saying." He said with a chuckle and Jareth smiled.

"I suppose I know what you mean. It depends. Before I met you, I, well... I liked to play with mortals. Toy with them, and generally make them perform for my amusement. Mostly I would drop them at the beginning of the Labyrinth and let them blunder their way through it. Most of them did not make it through, and a lot of them didn't even try." He replied and Harry's eyes darkened for a moment.

"Why did you do that, Jareth?" He asked.

"I was expecting that question. There are many answers, depending on how honest with myself I wish to be. The easy answer is to say that the fae have always played with the lives of mortals and probably always will. This is one truth. I am by no means the only fae alive, though I am one of the oldest and most powerful. But to me, I think it was more to do with anger, especially lately. Mortals took you, and with you my chance for happiness. When one is immortal, one knows one will live forever, it makes the turn of the years rather dull. With you, I have a future to look forward to, a purpose other than governing this kingdom." The Goblin King explained, and Harry tried his best to understand.

A large part of what Jareth was trying to say was difficult for him to relate to, since he was so young and from such a different world. But it was not hard to imagine himself in the other man's shoes and so he could easily afford some empathy for his situation. And he couldn't be upset or disappointed in the King's behaviour since he was not able to say he would have handled the loss of his mate any better than Jareth had.

"And now you have a purpose, you do not feel the need to torment mortals, is that it?" Harry asked, stopping in front of his throne and waiting for the King to sit down before he did. Jareth duly sat in his throne and took possession of Harry's hand once more, when he was comfortably ensconced in his chair.

"I wouldn't say that necessarily. Some of them richly deserve it." He gave Harry a meaningful look. "But I will say this: with you now the centre of my universe, I shall renege on my previous streak of abject cruelty. For my enemies and yours however, I shall show no mercy, as befits a King." He delivered the last sentence with such steely certainly that Harry was in no doubt that he meant it.

"All well and good then. I would not expect or ask for anything else. The time has passed for second chances for some, since they are already on their fourth or fifth. This late in the game, as they say, the players must make their stand and suffer the consequences of their actions." Harry declared and Jareth nodded.

"So mote it be." He replied softly. He squeezed his lover's hand and quickly received and answering squeeze. With nary a change in his stony expression the King summoned forth the wishers with a flash of magic. Having known who was coming, Harry was prepared for the sight of the tell-tale Malfoy white blond hair attached to the two visitors. What he was _not _prepared for, was the near skeletal appearance of the elder Malfoy.

Harry was out of his chair in a heartbeat, intent on healing the man, but seconds later the door banged open and in stalked his godfather. Harry barely had time to blink in surprise, before Sirius flung himself down on the floor beside the sickly man, and gently raised his head to look at him.

The sharp yet ragged intake of breath marked the surprise as both Malfoy men recognised the man they though was dead and gone, and Sirius next words shocked practically everyone in the room to their bones.

"Lucius, I'm here. Don't ask me how at the moment. Just know I'm here, I'm real, and I accept. _Can you hear me?_ I accept!" He cried desperately, before lowering his head to the other man's and kissing him soundly.

* * *

Harry stumbled backwards to his seat, still staring at the two embracing men in shock. Jareth helped him sit down safely, and sent him a quick glance to make sure he wasn't about to expire on the spot in surprise. 

Slowly, his brain began to process what he was seeing, and the instincts afforded him since the change started supplying him with an explanation for these extraordinary events.

"They are mated?" He asked quietly and Jareth nodded.

"Yes, they are. Or at least, they will be. They were intended, but something stopped them from completing the cycle when they were adolescents. Hence the reason for the decline of the elder gentlemen. Sirius has now accepted the bond and the process has finally commenced. If you stretch your senses a little you will be able to watch the regeneration of his cells as the combined magic rejuvenates him." He replied and Harry did so.

After some intense concentration, he could perceive an energy moving between the two men as they held each other, no longer kissing, but still connected. It did appear to literally be breathing new life into Lucius.

"Veela!" The answer popped into his head and was out of his mouth before he could stop it. Hearing this, Draco Malfoy who had been silent until now, spun round to face them, a defiant look in his eyes. This faded when he realised who he was facing.

"I - Are you the Goblin King?" He asked hesitantly, a trace of the old Malfoy pride in the set of his shoulders, but completely missing from his tone. Harry found he didn't like it. If the world had got so bad that even the Malfoys could not look down their noses at people with their in-bred arrogance, then something was seriously wrong. Not that he thought that such an attitude in a person was appealing or anything, but it represented a feeling of defeat which he was all too familiar with.

Seemingly not knowing what else to do, Draco sank to his knees and looked the King in supplication.

"Your Majesty, we asked to be taken by you as a means of protection. We are descended from peoples of this land, who sought adventure and new experiences in the human world and left with your blessing many years ago. Like the goblins, we have not forgotten who we are beholden to, but unlike them, my people have lost their way. Instead of bringing love and joy to the world as were intended to, many of my people have been using their powers for darkness and empty seduction." Draco paused as if gathering himself, and Harry watched silently along with Jareth.

"Continue." Prompted the King and Draco swallowed audibly.

"We lived on the earth as wizards, easily able to bend our veela powers to use in their magics. But we fell into the same corruption as the humans. My father was poisoned by a woman who sought to use him for his power and money. She stole him from his rightful mate, and since her death, he has been slowly deteriorating. We thought his true mate was dead but now I see he is here, and..." The younger veela's voice faltered as he tried to take in what was happening. Harry couldn't tell if he was more relieved or joyful, or maybe a mixture of both.

"It was my fault." A scratchy voice interjected, and all eyes turned to the owner of said voice.

* * *

**_5th February, 1974 - The Stairs Near the North Tower, Hogwarts_**

Sirius Black, debonair man-about-town, or so he liked to think of himself, was not having the best of days. In fact, his rather mild mannered best friend, Remus Lupin, would have put it in his usual offhand way, that our poor Sirius was having a _little_ bit of a trying day. And he wouldn't be wrong either. Guilty of a gross understatement in his friend's eyes perhaps, but not wrong, no.

It had begun with him sleeping through his alarm and his friends deciding not to wake him because they slept through theirs as well. Sirius thought that this was a likely excuse and things had pretty much gone downhill from there.

He was late for breakfast and so had to go hungry. He didn't have any free periods before lunch, so he wasn't able to go to the kitchens for a snack. The strap of his bag broke and when he tried to repair it, it only made it worse. He'd lost his Transfiguration homework and been docked points, he'd blown up his potion and got detention, and then now when walking back from said detention he'd walked right into the slumped form of somebody or other, who seemed to be having an episode of some kind on the floor.

"Just perfect." Muttered Sirius as he bent to turn over whoever it was to check they were still breathing. "The perfect end to and even more perfect day." He swore under his breath when he noticed the tell-tale white blond hair. Snatching his hands away as if burnt, he stumbled and landed on his arse in his haste to get away from the boy on the floor - Lucius Malfoy.

Unfortunately for him, Malfoy, who had seemed to be unconscious when he bumped into him, now appeared to be waking up. Groans of what must be pain were emanating from the crumpled figure hinted at his move from out like a light to sort of wakefulness. Sirius thought of it this way because the grip the other boy had on his lucidity was clearly tenuous at best.

Not wanting to subject himself to Malfoy this close to curfew on a really terrible day, Sirius decided discretion was indeed the better part of valour, whatever that meant, and rose to beat a hasty exit to anywhere other than here. He probably would have succeeded too, if a hand hadn't shot out from the previously huddled figure, and closed over his wrist in a vice-like grip.

"_Mine!_" The word was spat out harshly and before Sirius could even react with more than a quick blink, rough lips closed fiercely over his.

* * *

**_30th May, 2005 - Sirius' Bedroom, Off Harry's Suite_**

"My family knew, of course, about the Malfoys. There had been some intermarrying over the years, how could there not be with the way the pureblood world has always functioned? Oh, they thought they had kept the secret well, but every Black husband or wife has always reported anything they discovered about their spouses back to the family. It's always been that way. Any family who think they can claim the loyalty of a Black over their family, with a measly think like marriage, is naive and deserves whatever they have coming to them. At least, that's the way my parents always explained it." Sirius said, with a jaded look in his eyes that Harry loathed.

Lucius was ensconced in the bed, Sirius next to him with the other man's head cradled in his arms. After what had happened in the throne room, Jareth suggested that the head of the Malfoy family might be more comfortable in a bed, considering his condition. Despite the rapid improvement since Sirius accepted their bond, he was still in pretty bad shape, so everyone agreed right away.

A message was sent to those still waiting in Ragnok's suite that they would be delayed, but would explain all and to wait there.

Draco had come with them, and was being established in an adjacent room, so that he could easily see his father. Although Lucius and Sirius would need to go into a seclusion of sorts to cement their relationship, the Goblin King had also explained that veela need to be able to sense their young nearby, this would help to keep them calm and make the rest of the process a lot easier on all involved, so Draco shouldn't be too far away.

Sirius, who seemed to know rather a lot about the process, suggested his room for the two of them to share, as his presence and scent in the room would soothe and reassure the veela that was Lucius Malfoy.

"So you knew, did you? What he is, and what was happening?" Demanded Draco, glaring a little with anger at the way his father had been treated.

"Yes. After I ran away from him, I spent the whole night trying to puzzle it out. A chance mention of Lucius' birthday by some Slytherins in a lesson the next day tipped me off, and I realised he had gone into his mating cycle, and discovered I was his mate. I rejected the idea immediately, even though I knew what it would do to him. I have no good excuse I am afraid, other than the fact that I was only sixteen at the time, and incredibly frightened. I knew the Malfoys were just as bad as my family and I could not see myself tied to someone like that for the rest of my life. I just couldn't." Sirius ran his hand agitatedly through his hair, but stopped when he noticed Lucius stirring, a frown marring his pale, perfect features. Sirius forced himself to relax before answering another question from Draco.

"So, you went to your cousin." He said quietly, and Sirius nodded.

"I did. I knew she wanted him and his money. After what had happened with Andromeda, her father made it very plain that she was to wed someone of his choosing, and believe me, that did not sit well with Narcissa. Until she met Lucius, of course. Then she was all too happy to set up house and home with a suitable pureblood of good breeding and fortune. There isn't much left to tell really. I tipped her off, and she came up with some way to make him think she was his mate and not me. I don't really know what she used since I didn't get involved in that. But it doesn't stop it all being my fault." His self recriminations were cut off by the man in his lap as he stirred again.

"Long time ago." Was all Lucius said, before lapsing back into a semi-comatose state. Sirius looked worried but both Draco and Jareth were quick to reassure him.

"His body is doing that on purpose. It's trying to divert as much energy as possible to healing itself, and doing so shuts down any superfluous functions while it is working." Explained Draco, and the Goblin King concurred.

"It is perfectly normal, I assure you. While not many of the veela who still reside in my kingdom have gone through as much distress as Mr Malfoy here, I have witnessed enough to recognise the signs, and there is nothing to be alarmed about." Sirius leaned back against the mound of pillows behind him, relaxing a little, but still with worried eyes on Lucius.

"His colour still worries me, though I suppose he's always been quite pale. Ha-Elessar, perhaps you could - ?" He raised enquiring eyes to his godson, who in turn frowned and approached the bed. Holding a hand barely an inch above the slumbering veela's skin, Harry shook his head and stepped back.

"I would not like to interfere. While I think I can help, I should not try to heal him at this early stage. His bond with you is still _so_ new, that I worry introducing any foreign magic might interrupt the process. Such would be disastrous for any possible recovery. No, I suggest we wait until the bonding is complete and if he still has any health worries at that time, then we can address them. Until then, perhaps it would be best if we left you alone. What say you, Draco? Would you like to meet my family? There are even some people here you might recognise." He suggested and the Malfoy heir paused before nodding his acceptance, an intrigued look in his eyes.

All in all, Harry was not sure what to make of this older, more reserved Draco Malfoy. While it stood to reason that he would loose a lot of his childish impulsiveness with the passing of the years, he would still expect to see some of that inborn Malfoy obstinacy to be apparent, and it wasn't. As he had concluded earlier, he didn't like it. Oh, for sure, it made dealing with the young man an awful lot easier, so he supposed he should be happy with that. But he wasn't.

As they left Harry's guest suite, and made their way back to Ragnok's chambers, Jareth's ever faithful aide appeared and walked along side his lord.

"Your Majesty, some of our people Aboveground are reporting outbreaks of civil unrest in the magical community. It is mainly centred around the wizards, as they appear to be setting themselves against anyone of mixed race parentage." He declared, handing his King a sheaf of documents which Jareth quickly scanned before handing them to Harry to read.

"Wizards have always been fools, it is not secret. This latest idiocy may well be their downfall. It was only a matter of time I suppose." He mused, ignoring the accompanying snort from Draco.

Harry handed the documents back to Jareth, who in turn gave them to his servant. Stopping before the door the Ragnok's suite, they waited for the guards to knock and then open the doors for them, the Goblin King nodding to his aide to join them.

* * *

  
**_30th May, 2005_****_ - The Living Room, Ragnok's Usual Suite_**

"Ah, there you are gentlemen, and I see you have brought us a visitor, care to introduce him - " Ragnok was interrupted by Draco's heartfelt cry.

"S-Severus?! Professor Lupin?" He exclaimed in shock and surprise. They too were amazed to see him.

"Draco?"

"Mr Malfoy?"

All three were on their feet staring at each other, seemingly having forgotten about the rest of the people in the room. With a slight gesture, Jareth motioned to Harry to take a seat with him and let the wizards sort this one out for themselves. While the three of them were exchanging brief histories as to why and how they were there, Harry's parents beckoned him over.

"Elessar, we've sent for your brother to come and join us here. I know he will be very impatient to meet you. We don't want to overwhelm you or anything, but it didn't feel right leaving him out of all this." His mother explained and Harry nodded his agreement.

"It will be a tad strange, but then most of this has been already anyway. I would like to meet him too though. When will he get here?" He asked, and his father answered.

"It shouldn't be more than two or three days, give or take. He will need to make sure everything is in hand and organised in Faenya-Dail before he can leave." Dellandario smiled, and turned slightly when he saw the three wizards taking their seats. Jareth rose and started pacing the room, a habit he seemed to have picked up from Harry in a short space of time.

"Young Mr Malfoy here is a veela, as is his father. For those of you who do not already know, the veela which live Aboveground originated from my kingdom and went out into the wider world for adventure and new experiences a long time ago. Some have remained and I have sent for their Court representative to join us here. She should be here in a few hours. The Malfoys are now under my protection and if necessary we shall repatriate them as my subjects, should the need arrive in the future. They bring with them worrying news of persecution and attacks on anyone with apparent magical creature heritage." There was an outbreak of murmurs and unhappy noises from the people in the room.

"A report of this kind has reached me in the last few minutes as well," Began Ragnok. "Apparently, they have not made any moves towards my people, probably because they know we're holding their gold. The attacks are directed to isolated persons, lone werewolves, that kind of thing. The Ministry of Magic has passed a new law requiring everyone with so called 'creature' blood to register, and I hear they have plans to make the records semi-public, so that employers and the like can check it before they hire people, etc." The outrage in his voice was clearly evident and more than one person wondered if wizarding Britain had gone and lost its marbles this time.

There was a long silence as everybody tried to digest the news, not that it affected many of them directly, but the suffering of those they counted magical kin was enough to make them extremely upset and angry.

"How did it ever get so bad?" Murmured Harry, though his voice was soft it could be easily heard by all in the quiet room. He got up and went to look out of the window, smiling briefly at the goblins having a good ol' time in the grounds below. He turned back to face the others. "I should have left them all to Voldemort." He declared.

"Oh bloody hell! Potter!?!"


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter, Labyrinth or anything else you recognise. **

**A/N: I've been posting over at The Silver Snitch, so this whole thing has gone through a minor editing. Thanks for the reviews everyone, and to SeulWolfe for beta-reading.**

* * *

Chapter Eleven

* * *

_"Sarah, go back to your room. Play with your toys and your costumes. Forget about the baby."_

* * *

**_30th May, 2005_****_ - The Living Room, Ragnok's Usual Suite_**

"What? Don't look at me like that, as if you had some right to criticise my actions or feelings! I know you've had a hard time through all of this as well, but the circumstances do not make either of you in any way blameless. There is _always_ a choice." Harry snapped at Remus and Severus who both looked rather taken aback. Draco was fast beginning to realise he was missing some vital information here, and had a pretty good idea what that was.

"You - you're him, you're Potter?!" He demanded pointing a finger at the tall, winged elf who had just been speaking. Glancing at the hostile faces of the other elves and a large number of the goblins in the room, he quickly dropped the finger. He could do more magic without his wand than a normal wizard, true, but he did not want to aggravate a room full of people who currently looked a lot nastier than him. A Malfoy always knew when to whisper as well as when to roar, figuratively speaking of course.

"Yes and no. It's a complicated answer. I was, at one time, known under that name. But I never have really _been_ him. Harry Potter never actually existed, except in the minds of those who would use and discard him. I am Prince Elessar Devoryn, and you will address me as Your Highness, or not at all." Harry replied, scowling at his former rival.

Draco took a moment or two to choke this down, before he slumped, looking rather defeated.

"Very well, _Your Highness_." He replied softly, before looking down and studying his shoes. Harry glanced at the others, and while he noted a slight look of reproach in Remus' eyes, he saw nothing of the kind in the eyes of his parents or anyone else. Clearly, they supported his actions, or at least, didn't object to them. Perhaps, as a prince, though not in line for his father's throne, he was expected to act with authority. Who knew? Maybe he would in time, but not right now.

Seeing these people from his past brought his mind back to a time and place it would rather forget, and he could not escape the feelings those memories evoked in him. Above all was the intense feeling of helplessness and frustration, but laced with that was the shame and fear. He hadn't meant to snap at Malfoy, it had just happened.

Facing away from the people in the room, looking out of the window at a cloudless blue sky, he began to speak.

"It was just after I had been arrested..."

* * *

**_29th January, 2001_****_ - DMLE Holding Cells, Ministry of Magic_**

"Good evening, Harry."

The voice which greeted him was one he had known for a long time. One which, with the best will in the world, he had not wanted to hear again for an equally long time. Since he had fulfilled his destiny and taken down the Dark Lord which threatened their very world, he had expected to be able to finally live his _own_ life. But that was not to be, or so it seemed anyway.

This afternoon, while he had been busily beavering away in the garden of his new cottage, he had been stunned and bound, (the bindings he had later discovered when he awoke in this cell), and all while his back had been turned. Only repeated and insistent questioning of his guards had revealed to him where he was and who was detaining him. He had been shocked to discover it was the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and had queried why they had not even advised him of his rights.

"What rights does a traitor have?" He had been told, and since then he had fallen silent.

_Traitor?_

Who and what had he betrayed, and how?

Despite wanting answers, he had not bothered the guard again; clearly such a peon would not be able to give him any useful information. So, he had been sitting quietly in his cell, trying to work out what he had done to deserve such treatment, when old busy beard had decided to drop by.

"Albus." He replied softly, not bothering to look the old man in the eye. "What brings you here on such a fine evening, pray tell?" He asked, wondering if he had spent too much time training with Snape during the war.

"Now, my boy, there is no need to be hostile. You have only yourself to blame for your predicament." He began, before the ever famous twinkle flared suddenly, and he turned and hit Harry's guard with a sleep spell. "Well, now he is out of the way, let me be frank. You were born for one purpose and one purpose only: to defeat the Dark Lord. You were never supposed to survive the confrontation, but you did. When that happened, I began to realise that this could be used to our advantage, who better to bring my family fame and fortune than our very own ready made hero? But you did not want this; you had to go and set yourself up in some horrid muggle town, and ignore the people who wanted to pay you the correct homage." Dumbledore delivered this in a flat, unemotional voice that was so out of character for him that Harry wondered silently if this was an impostor.

When the old git got to the part about homage, Harry couldn't help himself and he delivered forth a very Snape-like snort.

"Perhaps that's what you wanted, but I didn't. I never have. The people do not owe me anything, and vice versa. If anything, it is _you_ who owes a debt, for not helping a child in need when he came to you." Harry replied, now looking defiantly into those too-blue eyes.

"Your upbringing was necessary to -" But Harry interrupted him.

"Not me! _Tom Riddle!_ You call yourself a Headmaster and yet you were blind to the way he was raised. Or you supposedly were anyway. There is not a chance in Hell that his use of magic at that orphanage went unregistered. Not someone as powerful as him. _Someone _knew and _someone _hushed it up, and when I get my chance to speak I will - "

"You will what _Harry?_ Blame me, the hero of the people for more than half a century!?" Dumbledore chuckled darkly. "I hardly think so. As if they would believe you over me! Oh, I see you shaking your head, and you are right. At one time, they may have, but not now. Oh, no, not now. They raised you on a pedestal many years ago, and more than once have they delighted in knocking you down, and right now my boy, you are lower than you ever have been before. In other times they may have been willing to put your behaviour down to youthful misdemeanour. But not anymore. No, I am afraid you will find no sympathisers among the people, which is as it should be. And if by chance they give you an opportunity to speak in your _defence_, then you will find it impossible to divulge our conversation. Magic has a myriad of uses, do you not think so?" He rose from the chair he had conjured for himself and flicked his wand over his Golden Boy.

He headed for the door, but stopped and turned back to face Harry again, who by now had walked to the front of his cell and was gripping the bars so tight his knuckles were white.

"I came here this evening to give you a chance to recant, and I would do my best for you. But it is clear that that is not to be. I had hoped you would understand why you are here, but it is also clear that you are too lost to be redeemed. Goodbye, _Mister _Potter."

* * *

**_30th May, 2005_****_ - Near The Back Parlour, The Hogs Head_**

Aberforth Dumbledore adjusted the depth on the spelled mirror he was using to spy on the group which had taken over one of his larger private rooms. He felt no shame in doing so, since he had been regularly spying on his customers for years. Anyone who didn't take the proper precautions to keep their conversations secret deserved what they got, in his book.

It was not an unexpected bunch that had gathered for a few drinks and some frank words, but the subject matter at hand, was rather interesting, he thought. In the room were Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick and Aurora Sinistra from the school, with them were Alastor Moody, Emmeline Vance and Sturgis Podmore from the Order of the Phoenix.

Aberforth wondered if his _esteemed _brother was aware of this meeting.

And, if he wasn't, whether anyone here would be reporting the proceedings to him. Besides himself of course, though, these days, he was being rather more cagey about passing on information to his younger sibling than he had been in the past. Merlin knew Albus had family loyalty, but that would only stretch so far, and Aberforth found himself wondering, on more than one occasion, what it would take for his brother to decide to throw him to the wolves, just like he did with his Golden Boy, Harry Potter.

"I think he's gone and topped himself, finally! Don't know why he wasn't put down years ago. Kid like that is a danger to everyone." Moody declared in a gruff voice.

"Alastor, please." Chided Minerva, and the former Auror shrugged.

"I'm only saying is all. And don't you go taking some high and mighty moral attitude with me, _Professor _McGonagall! You were right up there with the rest of us, calling for his arrest." Moody replied, taking a swig of his drink.

"Yes, well. I've had time to reflect on... past events, and it's beginning to look less and less clear what kind of threat Harry posed. Yes, I realise he had not done his duty by siring any heirs, but would we really want more of him running around, causing havoc?" The Deputy Headmistress had chosen her words carefully, and looked around for a reaction.

Most of the others looked undecided, though Moody looked thoughtful.

"Maybe you're right. I think if he were going to begin some kind of campaign for revenge, we would have heard at least a whisper by now, though I'll grant you, it's only been ten days since the last time anyone saw him." Podmore said.

"He was always such a strange, quiet boy. Oh, I know he and his friends engaged in various high jinks and rule breaking, but it was nearly all in the defence of others or his own life. I was ever so shocked when the reports of his dangerous behaviour were printed in the papers." Sinistra told them, and a few shifted uncomfortably.

Some of them knew that a lot of those so called reports were fabrications based on pure conjecture and speculation. There was never any actual evidence against Harry. Filius, as ignorant of these facts as Sinistra, picked up her train of thought.

"And so unlike his parents! Clearly a tremendous physical likeness to James, his mother's eyes of course. But the temperament, the demeanour, so different! And he always seemed to be to be blessed with a kind of grace, and finesse. When he was casting in my lessons, his magic felt more refined, for all of his unfamiliarity with it." He mused and the others were slightly confused.

"I do still wonder how he managed to survive the killing curse, when he was barely a year old. I know of the ancient magic Lily is said to have invoked, but how many parents have died for their children? How many people did we witness on the battlefield, jump in front of a curse for another, only for that other to die by a second curse? I suppose we will never know the truth." Emmeline said, and the room was quiet for a while.

Aberforth, sensing the chance for some mayhem, decided this was his cue to tell a tale his father had told him and Albus, a very, very long time ago. Grinning at how chagrined his younger brother would be if he let this get out, he cancelled the spell, and got up from his chair.

* * *

**_5th June, 2005_****_ – Jareth's Throne Room, The Castle Beyond The Goblin City_**

Harry was seated in the throne which had been placed next to Jareth's. He wasn't sure when it had been put there, it had just turned up one day and Jareth had told him to use it. A few paces away, his parents had been given rather ornate chairs to sit in, which apparently was the norm for visiting royalty.

They were gathered there that morning because word had been sent that not only was Crown Prince Talemario due to arrive any moment, but that the Court Veela Representative was nearing the city as well.

Harry had no problem admitting to nervousness at the idea of meeting his big brother for the first time. Part of him had always wanted an older brother to look up to, someone to watch out for him, and even someone to get completely rat arsed with, frankly.

Thinking about it now, he supposed he was worried that Talemario wouldn't like him, think him a freak and reject him. No prizes for realising where he got that idea from.

When he had been really little, and hadn't yet understood that he wasn't welcome with the Dursleys, he had sort of looked up to Dudley as his older brother. Not that he was that much older, but he had certainly been bigger.

On their first day at primary school, some of the kids had picked on him for his horrible clothes and battered glasses. They had teased him mercilessly, calling him names and asking if he had grown up on a council estate. A very small, rather diminished part of him hoped his cousin would stick up for him, but nothing could be further from the truth.

He was brought out his memories by Jareth's major-domo announcing the arrival of the Crown Prince of Faenya-Dail. Inwardly bracing himself, Harry prepared to greet his long lost big brother. He could only hope his trepidation didn't show on his face.

* * *

For his part, Talemario was inordinately pleased to be summoned to Jareth's castle to meet his brother.

Something inside him had known, even before his parents and sister had left the city, that this Avariel which the Goblin King had found was his brother. He'd almost felt like he had been missing a limb for his whole life. Even when he was a small boy, when Elessar had been stolen, he had known his life would never be the same again. His childlike mind had understood it, and been profoundly sad.

Not that he wasn't enjoying his sojourn as Regent of his father's kingdom, or anything like that. He wasn't especially eager to get away, it had felt good to be the one in charge, and he had felt so proud and grateful when his parents placed that trust in him. He was lucky, he knew, to have parents such as them. He was also blessed with his little sister, because while she could be intensely irritating and nosey when she wanted to be, she was also a wonderful friend and his staunchest supporter.

When he thought of how Elessar had been so cruelly denied this, and more, he was furious. A cold, burning fury, the likes of which he had never experienced before.

The day he had received and read the letter from his father confirming that the unidentified elf was in fact his little brother, it had been necessary for him to be locked in his room. It was the only way to prevent himself hurting any of the people around him, so angry was he. He spent a long time going over everything in his head, until he felt safe to be around other people again.

Hours later, when he'd finally emerged, he had decided on one salient point.

He would go to the Goblin City, he would begin his friendship with his brother, and then, when the time was right, he _would_ avenge them all. Those who had sought to tear apart his family for their own gains had better prepare themselves to meet whichever deities they worshiped.

There would be no mercy for their enemies.

* * *

Harry drew a deep breath as his saw the elf which must be his brother enter through the large double doors and make his way towards the dais at the front. He was very glad for the silent support his lover and parents were offering, and for the quiet steadfastness of Sirius and his new mate, Lucius. The two men had been in seclusion for several days, during which they had completed their bond.

The changes in both of them as a result of their bonding, were nothing short of dramatic.

Literally _years_ had fallen off them, their faces were full and youthful. Sirius had regained the vigour he had lost during his years in Azkaban prison. Lucius, who had looked like a veritable skeleton when he and his son arrived in the throne room, wasn't completely better. But all the same, he looked far younger than he had the first time Harry had seen him, in Flourish and Blotts, all those years ago. According to the court healers, time and a stress free environment was all he needed to make a full recovery. The new Malfoy family was overjoyed and Draco had begun to build a good relationship with Sirius.

Time was definitely something Harry felt he could provide them with - as for stress free... well. He would do his best, and that was all he _could_ do. The two of them, as a veela and his mate were under his protection now and were... subjects of his, he supposed. That meant he would defend them and ensure that they were beyond the persecution of the rather short-sighted Wizarding world.

A discreet nudge from Jareth brought him back to the present, and he focused his attention on his brother.

"Thank you, Your Majesty, for your gracious welcome. You will forgive me if I set aside cold tradition and rituals to greet the brother I have lived so many years without." Turning to Elessar, he stepped forward hesitantly. "Elessar, dear Elessar, it has been too long. I find myself at once proud of the man you have become and chagrined that so many years have been stolen from us. Please, may I?" He said holding his arms out, clearly wanting to embrace him.

Harry flicked a glance at Jareth, and then at his parents, before he rose from his throne and made his way over to Talemario. Pausing briefly to look into the other man's eyes, he stepped forwards into his big brother's arms.

Talemario held onto his little brother tightly, as if he feared he would disappear again. Involuntarily, his wings unfurled and wrapped around the other elf, cocooning him in warmth and safety.

"I can't believe you're really here." Talemario murmured and Harry just nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He was a little embarrassed about the display he was making, but he told himself not to think about it, since he knew it was perfectly normal to show affection to one's family. The way he grew up was _not_ how things should be done. He hoped that if he kept reminding himself about that, he would eventually be able to get past it.

"Here, let me look at you." His brother said, and Harry allowed him to pull him back and cup his face in his hands. Everyone else in the throne room was silent, letting the brothers have their moment.

"Do I pass?" Harry said with a weak laugh.

"Of course. I hope we'll be able to spend some time together, and get to know each other. I wish I could have been there for you, when you were growing up, when you became a man. I know some of what has happened to you. I wish I could take all that hurt away, erase it. But I can't." He sighed. "Things will be better now. We're all together again." He turned to face the rest of the royal family, who were seated together, smiling.

Harry noticed tears in the eyes of the princess and the queen. At some gesture from Talemario, they rose from their seats and wrapped their arms around both of them.

Jareth watched the proceedings with an eye which was no longer cynical, no longer jaded. When he had spoken with Harry about his renewing the burnt out embers of his heart, how he had brought spring to the long, barren winter of his soul, he hadn't been exaggerating. These past weeks with his husband-to-be had been a revelation for him. Feelings long since repressed were resurfacing, and he barely recognised himself these days.

That was fine with him though. He doubted Harry could have loved the man he was before, and such a thing was now unthinkable to him. In some ways it scared him how quickly the elf had managed to worm his way into his heart, and just how dependent Jareth now was on him. Even more terrifying than that though, was the idea of losing him. That, now they had finally found each other, after _two hundred _years of waiting, what they had might be snatched away.

He didn't think it likely, but it _did _worry him.

Those who had persecuted and imprisoned him during his years as a wizard still posed a threat to him now. The mere presence of other wizards made him nervous. They had been vouched for, true, but if they had managed to find their way here, to his kingdom, others who were less welcome might be able to do the same thing. Others had, in fact, when the infant Prince Elessar had been kidnapped.

He had very little doubts that he and his people were strong enough to combat any forces or machinations the wizards of the Aboveground could muster. But he was worried about the effect any exposure to that world could have on his mate. He was only just beginning to heal his broken heart and spirit, and Jareth for one was not about to let his so-called friends do any more damage at this critical stage.

The decision was most likely out of his hands, however. Instincts which had served him for several millennia told him that the Fates had something planned for the wizards, something severe and most likely permanent.

He had begun to have his suspicions on this matter when he had discovered their binding of Harry's magic. Further research conducted by his people unearthed more cases where the very same thing had been done to others, for very little provocation or just cause. One did not live as long as Jareth had and not understand that such a cavalier attitude to the gifts Fate has given you could ever go unpunished.

If the wizards believed that they could treat people in this abusive fashion and steal from them what was never theirs to give or take in the first place, then they were the worst kind of fools. Some, might call it karma, though that would not be entirely accurate.

Karma, as Jareth understood it, was one facet of certain religions on Earth. He had read extensively of that world and its population, since it was so closely linked to his own.

Closer than he would like it to be, currently.

From what he could tell, karma is not about retribution, vengeance, punishment or reward; karma simply deals with what is. The effects of all deeds actively create past, present and future experiences, thus making one responsible for one's own life, and the pain and joy it brings to others.

Throughout this process, many believe a deity plays some kind of role, for example, as the dispenser of the fruits of karma. Well, the wizards would soon understand that while they did not answer to a god per say, they would have to accept the consequences of their actions, and the Fates would most probably enjoy their role as dispensers.

He himself was rather looking forward to that aspect of it. However, he was concerned at the effect it would have on his Harry, and the wizards they had offered shelter to. While none would deny it was justified, Harry had a soft heart and might find it too harsh a punishment. Plus, there was the possibility that the people they had taken in might not be spared. He thought it unlikely, as he could easily offer himself as a guardian of sorts, but it _was _possible.

As he ruminated on this problem, he kept one ear on the conversation around him. Things seemed to be calming down a notch or two, and he had just heard Harry suggest they repair to one of the more comfortable parlours for refreshment. Having found unconditional acceptance from his elder sibling, Harry had begun fussing over him, questioning him on his long journey here.

Since matters were fresh in his mind, and since everyone was so conveniently gathered in one place, perhaps it was time to share his suspicions? After all, a delay in disclosure could potentially be just as damaging, if not more, than leaving the revelation to the moment of judgement.

Added to that, keeping secrets from his lover was _not_ a positive way to begin a marriage. He'd be damned if he set his love against him before the vows had even been said!

* * *

**_5th June, 2005_****_ – The Comfortable Parlour, The Castle Beyond The Goblin City_**

Once everyone had been seated and furnished with various refreshments, Jareth waited for the right moment to air his theories. He was loathe to bring up such dark thoughts when they were all enjoying a quiet moment, but as he had previously thought, it was better to bring it up now so that they could be prepared. He didn't like ruining such a happy gathering, but needs must, as they say.

When Harry was beginning his second cup of tea, Jareth cleared, drawing his attention. Harry raised his eyebrows and looked at him expectantly.

"I thought I should make you aware of something I have been considering for some time. I think I may have mentioned before that the Fates frown on any interference in magic?" Jareth said, and Harry frowned. "Regardless of whether I went into detail or not, I now believe this to be a very real possibility. No one should have the power to remove your magic, or even bind it as it was with you. It is a gift given to you, and should not be tampered with. Even I would never take such action, despite having the power to do so. Since meeting you and hearing what had happened, my people have discovered several other cases where this has occurred before. I have lived for a long time, and as a Fae, am closer connected to the Powers That Be than perhaps others are. You will be too, once we are joined. I cannot communicate with them in any direct way, but the feelings I am receiving from them lead me to believe that they are on the verge of taking, permanent, drastic action. This is a pivotal time for wizards and witches. I believe that they are about to come face to face with the consequences of their actions."

Jareth finished his explanation with a grim expression. From the corner of his eye, he could see that the others in the room had been listening with rapt attention, but he didn't want to look away from Harry to correctly categorise their reactions. He could find out later, for now, he was worried about his lover.

It frustrated him that he didn't know Harry well enough to predict how he would react. He knew it was dangerous to try and pigeonhole people, but he couldn't help himself sometimes. During the healing he had learnt a lot about Harry, but since then their circumstances had changed so much, that he really wasn't sure how this news was going to affect him.

"What do you think they might do, Jareth?" Harry asked quietly, sipping his tea. From outward appearances he seemed calm, but that didn't mean that a storm wasn't raging inside.

"I think that they may react rather forcefully, possibly removing the magic from those involved. Their definition of 'involved' might be rather more vague than yours or mine, however. They may believe that those who arrested and prosecuted you are the guilty parties. Or, it may extend to those friends and associates of yours who did not intervene or represent you in any way, or..."

"Or, it may include every witch and wizard in the world who didn't protest at the violation of my basic human rights." Harry finished the thought for his lover.

"The wizarding world does not have a subscription to, or even acknowledge the Geneva Convention, Your Highness. They are not familiar with the term 'civil liberties'. It is my understanding that if your case was presented to a court which followed the laws and practices which muggles have set up, that it would probably have been thrown out of said court. That is, if it had even gotten to that stage. I doubt there are many Crown Prosecutors who would even agree to try the case." Remus interjected at his point, and Harry frowned again.

"So by that reasoning do you imply that all wizarding folk in Britain are culpable, because they elected the leaders that carried out those acts? Or do you mean that because they allowed it to happen without protest, that they condoned it and therefore should hold an equal share of the blame?" He asked.

"It is entirely possible that the Fates will see it that way. They are less than fond of having their power usurped." Jareth clarified, and there was silence for a long moment.

"Then good. They richly deserve it. That and more." Replied Harry, grim satisfaction practically pouring from him. Without another word, he rose and left the room.

The rest of the people in the parlour watched the door as it closed and then turned to look at each other.

"I cannot say that his reaction was unexpected. They took too much from him, his very being, in fact. While I don't believe he is inherently vengeful or vindictive, even Elessar can be pushed beyond his level of tolerance." Jareth observed, and a few others nodded.

"Perhaps someone should go after him?" The Queen said, eyebrows raised.

"Let me, mother." Talemario offered and he received a nod from Jareth.

* * *

**_30th May, 2005_****_ - The Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_**

Albus Dumbledore was engaged in a task which always left him severely agitated, namely, his paperwork. He was forever putting it off until such time that it became urgent, and because he had no system, it always felt like he was rushing. Which he was. After so many years in his position, one would think he would organise things better, but he didn't.

When one of the portraits informed him of imminent visitors, he set aside the documents he had been working on with alacrity, glad to have an excuse.

What he had not bargained for, was the extremely angry faces of said visitors.

"Dumbledore, you have a lot of explaining to do - starting now!"


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter, Labyrinth or anything else you recognise. **

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews, I hope to have a new chapter out soon!**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

* * *

_"I think I'll call him Jareth. He's got my eyes."_

* * *

**_5th June, 2005_****_ – The Balcony, Harry's Unused Apartments_**

Harry restrained a flinch as Talemario lowered himself down to sit next to him. He could not repress a small gasp of surprise when he felt one of his brother's wings unfurl to wrap around him. The gesture of comfort meant more to him than he could say.

"Want to talk, Elessar?" He said softly, and Harry shook his head.

"Not really. Sometimes, I find myself very weary with explaining my feelings to people." He replied, though not unkindly.

"I can understand that. I hope you don't mind if I talk. All I wanted to say is, you don't have to explain yourself. What you're going through – what you've been through, well. It takes time, I think, to come to terms with that. More time than you've had so far. Aside from everything that happened with the wizards, you've had several big shocks, these last few weeks. So, don't worry about what everyone else is thinking of you. Us – your family and Jareth, we love you, just as you are. You need to give yourself time to heal, everything else can wait." Talemario said, and Harry smiled gratefully.

"Thanks, I – I mean thanks for understanding." He said, and turning a little, he allowed his head to rest on his brother's shoulder, snuggling into the wing which wrapped him up so securely.

Time.

Yes, time he had now aplenty. Not only did elves live a lot longer than humans or wizards, but as Jareth's mate he would likely live forever. These trials would pass, and more would come, but now he had the time and support he needed to deal with them.

* * *

**_5th June, 2005_****_ – Harry and Jareth's Sitting Room, Jareth's Castle_**

Jareth looked up from the documents he had been half-heartedly studying when he heard the door open and close. He was relieved to see it was Elessar and that he wasn't looking too upset. Clearly, whatever it was his elder brother had told him, and he assumed that Talemario had found him, had made an impact.

"Come and sit with me?" He asked and Elessar smiled, happy to do just that.

"I – Tal and I had a chat. He told me I don't need to feel bad if I'm not over what happened, you know, with the wizards." He told Jareth by way of explanation.

"I can't tell you how pleased I am that the two of you have already become friends. I confess that I was worried that this influx of family might be too much of a shock for you. I do not mean to imply that you are in any way lacking – far from it. Many lesser people would have broken down by now I think." He paused and noted the amused look in Harry's eyes. Jareth smiled. "Perhaps I should desist and let you speak, hmm?" He said and chuckled.

"I do appreciate what you are trying to say, a'mael. I think if I didn't have you, then I probably would have collapsed into myself by now. In fact, according to Griphook, I'd be dead. But don't think I'm only with you because I'm grateful, there's so much more to it than that." Harry came forward and straddled his lover's lap, the glint in his eyes far from innocent.

"Well now, this is far more interesting than whatever I was reading before you came in." Jareth murmured, tilting his head to place light kisses up the side of his mate's neck.

"I've been learning more elvish, Jareth. Would you like to hear some?" Elessar asked, and his King nodded his assent.

"Jareth, corm corm'amin." Harry mumbled. Anything else he might have said was cut off when the King covered his lips with his own.

* * *

Later in their bedroom, Harry paused to consider his position. Not literally of course, he was more than happy to be where he was, tucked up next to his love, his head resting on Jareth's shoulder as the other man slept.

Even though so much had changed, he still felt like he was Harry Potter, and he wondered if, despite everything, if he would always feel that way. Being who he had been set up to be came with so many obligations, and if he was honest, a truck load of guilt. Misplaced guilt as well, since he really should never have had anything to do with that world or the people in it.

There had been some positive points of course, though at that minute he was hard pressed to remember any of them. The only thing he could thing of was the deep bond he had forged with Hogwarts herself. He knew that she had bemoaned the fact that she first couldn't do anything proactive to assist him in the war, other than shelter him and let him in on as many secrets she possibly could. She had led him to several hidden volumes of knowledge which had allowed him to unlock some of the power inside him, and it was that which had given him the edge when it came to facing Voldemort.

When he had been forced to leave the school, he was heartbroken, and he was well aware she was too. Later, when he had been arrested and his magic bound, the severing of their bond had caused both of them great pain. According to rumour, it was about that time that various little oddities had cropped up at the school. It was small things, like the showers refused to produce hot water for weeks, the food kept going off now matter how many charms were placed on them and not even Hagrid could step foot in the Forbidden Forrest.

Although slightly childish, he did appreciate the revenge she had taken on those who proclaimed to be his protectors. They were in the order of pranks, which made him and he knew that was why she had done it, even though she was then unable to tell him herself.

He stopped to imagine what his life could have been like had he been allowed to grow up with his real parents. Would he have ended up a spoiled brat like Draco Malfoy? Though, to give him his due, he seemed to have outgrown it to some degree.

Thinking it over, he decided it was unlikely. After all – look at Tal. He was the Crown Prince, and he was anything but arrogant. And Caredessi too – she was a lovely person. It made him very sad that a childhood with the two of them and their parents had been denied him. Especially because of some selfish, degenerative and downright horrible wizards had decided to capture him like some oddity to be studied and then used.

He drew closer to Jareth, wanting the comfort of the fae's body to reassure him and remind himself that he was far away from those people now, and well outside the sphere of their control.

Now that he had had time for reflection, he really did believe that if the Fates truly did intend to punish the magical world for what they had done, they were doing the right thing. Not only did they have a much farther reaching view than any other being alive, but the power was theirs to bestow as they saw fit.

Yes, part of his belief was down to a desire for revenge on those who had wronged him so drastically. And was he a bad person for wanting that? After all, if no one checked them now, how far might they go one day? Would they eventually try and push their dominance onto muggles? They were in for a rude awakening if they did. He doubted the wards on the Ministry of Magic would stop an atomic bomb, and he had no doubts whatsoever that the United Nations would sanction one if their very freedom was at stake.

He also had to admit that, he felt content with leaving this decision and the execution of whatever decision was made, up to a higher power. His instincts told him that this was the way of things, and he was thankful that there was a higher power at all who could monitor these things and take action as needed.

"Are you alright, Elessar?" Asked Jareth softly, turning a little to pull him closer.

Elessar.

That was who he was now, and he embraced it, fully. For the first time since he had found out about his identity, his family and his betrothal. It was as he had said to the wizards in Ragnok's suite – Harry Potter had never existed.

He was Prince Elessar Devoryn, and at last, finally, he was where he belonged.

* * *

**_30th May, 2005 - The Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_**

Dumbledore paused as he looked at the faces opposite him. Most of them were contorted with shock and rage, though a few were just blinking with disbelief. What annoyed him more than anything else, was his older brother. Aberforth was off to one side, his arms crossed and a smug smirk on his face.

"I wonder what it is you are referring to, Molly." Albus hedged. In his long career, he had many incidents and intrigues which could be discovered, and some of them relating to the people assembled in his office at the moment. He was hard pressed to know just what it was they were confronting him about.

"Don't play innocent with me! Aberforth has told us, about Harry! Or whatever his name was!" Minerva stalked closer and glared at him from across his desk.

Ah, so they knew. What could he possibly say to explain? The work to set the elf baby up as their saviour began hundreds of years ago, it was the toil of generations. How could any of these people understand the long view his family had had to take over the years?

He hadn't known, at first, that baby Harry was anything but human. But when the news of Harry's disappearance and the reports of the difficulty in locating him came in, he had gone back and re-read the journals and notes he had about his family's plans. It appeared they had removed an elf baby from another world, and it was highly likely that Harry had discovered his heritage in some way, and retreated to that world. Knowledge of his ancestry would also explain his accounts being sealed by Gringotts.

Unfortunately for Dumbledore, all records on how to make a journey to that world, or even the name of it had been lost.

"Ah, you see –"

Before he could even start his reply, he was interrupted by a voice which though not loud, grated on his ears in a way which nearly made them bleed.

"_Yes Albie, do tell them how your ancestors stole one of our children from his crib. I would love to hear how you explain it away. The way you wizzies blunder about mucking things up makes me laugh! Go on wizzies, make me laugh!"_

The voice cut off with a round of hysterical giggling. Startled from their daze at the sound of the penetrating voice, the people in the room looked around frantically for the source of the noise. When they found it, they stared at it, or her, amazed.

A little girl was sitting on top of one of the Headmaster's many bookcases. She had dark hair, and long pointed ears. Her skin was a strange, translucent colour which didn't look at all healthy, though the sheer force of her presence almost sent them to their knees.

The look on her face told them she definitely knew how much she was affecting them, and that she was enjoying it. Although she was laughing, there was also a steely rage and fury in her eyes. Several of them wrenched their eyes away from her and gazed longingly at the door.

Dumbledore stood up as if to confront this interloper in their midst, but again he was pre-empted.

"_No good, you're boring me now. But don't worry, I'll be back. Bye, bye wizzies!"_ She squealed and then disappeared. There was no crack of apparation, or anything of that kind. She just suddenly wasn't there. Once released from the titanic force of her presence, some of the people in the room fell to their knees.

"Wha – What or who was that?!" Panted Sinistra from her position on the floor. She was a little out of breath thanks to storming her way up to the Headmaster's office and then their encounter with whoever that was.

There was silence as everyone looked at each other, clearly astounded and no one having any idea who the visitor was.

One being in the room was not confused, he knew very well who had just left and he could not prevent the sense of foreboding which swept over him. He decided it was high time he left the wizard he had bound himself to many years before, and began to pray fervently that he would be spared. He wasn't at all sure he would be.

"_Albus, that was one of the Fates. I am not sure which one, however. Seeing her has made me realise that I should have departed from these shores a long time ago. I once thought that if I stayed with you, I could draw you back from the precipice you have been charging towards. I see now I was wrong. I can only hope for mercy."_

And with that, Fawkes spread his wings, and in a flash of fire, he was gone, never to return.

* * *

**_6th June, 2005_****_ – Diagon Alley, Central London_**

It had been just over a week since his parents had returned from their meeting at Hogwarts, and Bill Weasley was finding himself at the very end of his tether.

When their parents had explained all that they had learned while at the school, the family seemed to split in two. On one side was him, his father, his brother Charlie and the twins, and on the other side, were Ron, his wife Hermione, Percy, Ginny and their mother.

He and his father and brothers believed that Dumbledore was wrong for what he had done to Harry. Not only was a child who should never have been part of their world set up to take out a Dark Lord no one else had been able to handle, but, the poor boy was then condemned by the rest of the world and had his magic taken away from him. Even worse than that, the child must have had a family out there somewhere who missed him terribly. They may have even given him up for dead and begun mourning for him. It just wasn't right.

Looking back on it now, he couldn't believe what they had done to Harry. And he was just as guilty as the rest of them. He had not stuck up for the boy, even though he knew it was wrong, but had been too scared that he would be sent down with him. At the time he had justified it by reasoning that he couldn't leave his wife, but now he could see the truth – he had been a coward and let mob mentality dictate his actions.

And where was Harry now? No one had seen hide nor hair of him since he had disappeared, nearly three weeks ago. From what he'd heard, the Aurors had nothing to go on. It was as if he had just vanished into thin air.

The other part of their family believed that though it was regrettable, what had happened to Harry, or whoever he was, was for the good of their world and had saved all their lives, therefore it was justified. They also seemed to believe that the removal of magic had been necessary to prevent him from becoming another Dark Lord.

The idea that Harry would turn dark was utterly ridiculous. When faced with the betrayal of everyone he had trusted, everyone he had held dear, what did he do? Not go running to every Dark Arts agent he could find and restore his magic that way, no. He had finished his degree and gone out to work healing sick animals.

Unfortunately, many of the others just didn't seem to appreciate what that meant and things between the two factions in the Weasley household had come to a standstill.

Bill stumbled as he was jostled by some hasty shopper. He didn't even know what he was doing here today. He had only really come so he could get away from the house and the arguments going on there.

After Fleur had died, a year ago now, he just lost focus with the world. His parents had persuaded him to sell their marital home and move back in with them for a time. It had seemed like a good idea then, because he really hadn't wanted to be alone, but now... Well, he wasn't so sure.

He wasn't sure about a lot of things actually, especially his wife's death. It had all been so mysterious, and to this day he had no idea what had _really_ happened. The healers had put it down to a heart attack, and the Aurors he had called in had only made a cursory investigation.

He had been feeling very unwell since she had died, though he hid it masterfully. He really didn't want to invite his mother's fussing. He wasn't sure at first what was happening to him, he had just put it down to grief and told himself that, eventually, he would move on and the pain would dull, if never fade completely.

But it had been a _year_ and he wasn't getting any better. Of course, he did not expect to stop missing Fleur after a year, but he'd expected the physical aspect of his grief to fade some, and it hadn't. If anything, the sick feeling and the weakness had gotten worse.

He stumbled again, and actually fell over this time. He felt a sharp pain in his face as he hit the ground, and after a few moments realised that he had fallen onto the marble steps of Gringotts.

After the war, his mother had nagged him until he got a 'proper job' at the Ministry. He really hadn't wanted to leave his work with the bank, but she had played on his guilt by telling him she wanted all her children nearby after nearly losing them all to Voldemort. How could she protect him, and know he was safe if he was gallivanting round the world and trying to break dark curses, she had argued. He had eventually given in and quit his job with the goblins.

Thinking about it now, he started to wonder when he had begun to view his mother's actions and motives in such a negative and cynical light. He couldn't really place his finger on the exact moment, but running through his memories he realised that it was the way she had treated Fleur which had started it all off.

Fleur, his beloved Fleur. She had grown up so much over the years and stopped expecting everyone to adore her for her looks, and really tried to make lasting friendships with people. She was caring, and kind and brought such a light into his life. He still missed her so much, his heart was practically aching.

Rising slowly from his prostrated position on the stone steps, Bill gingerly examined his face. He didn't think anything was broken, but he was going to have a spectacular bruise on his cheek from where he had hit the deck. He must have really been out of it, he mused, because he hadn't even thrown his hands out to protect himself.

It was then that he knew that whatever was wrong with him was not merely grief, and that it was not just going to go away on its own. He turned and looked up at the impressive façade of the bank. Despite him being human, the goblins had always treated him with respect and dignity. He was in crisis and he needed help, and he knew exactly where to go to get it.

Walking slowly, so as not to injure himself further, he made his way into the lobby. Spying a goblin he knew and trusted, he hailed him.

"Griphook, old friend. I was wondering if I could seek your assistance…"

That was as far as he got with his greeting, before he collapsed once again, this time falling into blissful oblivion on the mosaic tiles of the bank's hall.

Griphook looked down at his former colleague and sighed. Why were humans always getting themselves into these silly situations? Signalling two of the nearby guards to help him, he sent one off to fetch a healer and another to help him levitate the unconscious Weasley onto a stretcher.

Something told him it was going to be a long day.

* * *

**_6th June, 2005_****_ – A Comfortable Guest Room, South Wing_**

"You know, if you keep bringing me injured wizards, I may have to invest in building an infirmary." Jareth said to Griphook as they both looked at the sleeping wizard in the bed in front of them.

"Forgive me, my liege, but he has become something more than a wizard, and we were loath to risk sending him to their healers, given the current climate Aboveground. Our own were unsure of what to do to assist him." The goblin explained and Jareth sighed.

Elessar straightened from where he had been examining the Weasley heir and ran a tired hand over his brow. "Griphook is right, his body and magic have been changing. I can only guess that it had something to do with Fleur." At the King's confused look, he clarified.

"He was married to a part veela, I believe her grandmother was a full blooded veela. Somehow they began to form a rudimentary bond, not unlike what would have developed had they both been veela. I understand from Griphook here that Fleur died a year ago. Since it wasn't a complete bond, they probably didn't even know about it. So, when it was severed, it began eating away at him. For my part, I'm surprised he's lasted as long as he has." Elessar straightened some of the blankets which were covering the redhead and sighed.

"Is there anything you can do, Your Highness?" One of the goblin healers asked, and Elessar shrugged.

"I've done as much as I can for now – stabilised his core, healed the bruises and the muscle degeneration, but if we don't find an answer soon, his half of the broken bond is going to kill him. His central nervous system has gone to hell. You all know as well as I do that when one half of a veela couple dies, the other half dies with them. I don't understand how they managed to create such a bond, but they did. Maybe they just loved each other that much, that… Well, I guess we'll never know for sure." He paused and looked to his lover. "Didn't you say that the Court veela representative had arrived to see Lucius and Sirius?" He asked and Jareth nodded.

"I believe she is currently in an interview with them. Perhaps when she has finished we can consult with her on this issue? She may be able to shed some light on young Mr Weasley's situation, and offer a possible solution?" He ventured and Elessar smiled.

"Very well. I'm sorry to leave like this, but I feel very drained. A'mael, I will be in our chambers, resting. Please send for me, or come and get me if you need anything." And with a kiss for his mate, the young Avariel left.

The goblins and their King watched him go, most with admiring or reverent smiles on their faces. One of the goblins looked on with pride and gratitude. When he noticed Jareth watching him, he bowed.

"Your Majesty, I cannot tell you how happy it makes me to see him so well, and settled. I am so pleased you have managed to guide him back from the doom which awaited him. And that in him you have found such a strong mate. Truly, I believe the two of you will bring about an era of great peace and prosperity for our peoples." Griphook said and Jareth bowed back to him.

"I thank you for your kind words, kinsman, and I happily join you in your rejoicing." He said, rather formally, but the people in the room recognised what was passing between the two friends. After a brief discussion, one of the goblin healers remained behind and the rest separated to take care of various tasks.

A goblin was dispatched back to Gringotts to keep Ragnok informed of what was occurring, and a messenger had been sent to where the veela was consulting with the newly bonded couple, to wait for her to finish.

Finding that he had nothing pressing to do just then, the Goblin King decided to join his mate for a nap.

* * *

**_6th June, 2005_****_ – Somewhere in the Castle, And Draco Doesn't Know Where_**

Draco was lost, and cursing himself for it.

Earlier in the day, he had been minding his own business in the room provided for him by the King. He had been tossed out of his father and Black's sitting room when some veela or other had arrived and asked to speak with them. He had been a bit annoyed, but understood that their bond was new and they needed her assistance.

So, he had been reading one of the books which he had found in the bookcase in his room, not really paying attention to the words, when he had noticed an itch. He ignored it, believing it would undignified to just start scratching, but it hadn't gone away. After a few experimental rubs, and then later resigned scratching, it still hadn't gone away. Worse still, it had mysteriously, and definitely without his express permission, upgraded itself into an all over tingling.

With the tingling came a pull, and he found himself wanting to follow it. In the end, he had given up and followed the tugging which felt somewhat like a portkey.

He spent some time wandering around the vast halls of Jareth's castle, trying to locate the source of what was calling to him. He wasn't having much luck. Every time he tried to follow its exact direction he ended up walking into walls. Most uncivilised.

So, he had stopped and sat on one of the wide, stone window ledges and let vent to his frustration. Verbally, of course, because sadly there was no one nearby to hex and he really didn't want to risk the Goblin King's ire by destroying any of his vases.

He was just about to scream out for someone to come and help him, when the pull magnified infinitesimally, and he lurched to his feet. He let his body lead him where it wanted to go and didn't argue. This had now become something so urgent that he wanted to cry with longing, and need.

He stumbled to a stop before a door, and, leaning against it, panted for breath. He knocked weakly, not trusting his voice, and waited for an answer. It felt like hours before anyone came to the door, but as soon as it opened, he pushed past whoever it was and ran into the room.

He almost skidded as he came to a stop before a large bed, and gazed at the figure tucked up in it.

Only one word made its way past his lips before he threw himself at the figure: "_Mine!_"

* * *

Bill Weasley awoke to the feeling of lips on his, and he responded in the only way he knew how, by kissing them back insistently. When a warm tongue entered his mouth and massaged his own, he felt joy rush through him, like he'd never experienced before.

His mind felt like it was still asleep, and he was acting on pure instinct. In the back of his mind, he heard people scuttling away and the door open and close, but he was too far gone to really register it.

Hands were on him, removing what little clothing he was wearing, and he didn't protest. Instead he reached out to the person who was lying on him and worked desperately to remove the flimsy barriers which denied him the touch of their skin. Once that was done, and he felt naked skin pressed against his own, he groaned with lust.

He really had no idea what he was doing, his brain was suffused with pleasure, and all he could think about was getting more. Even so, he had a deep feeling within himself that this was right. What he was doing with this person was something he needed, and more than that, it was something wonderful.

Their bodies moved together, in a dance of love and desire. Their mating was intense, but not rushed. Both of them marvelled at the feeling of every touch, every caress as they joined and loved each other in a way which left both of them inflamed and yearning for more.

Afterwards, as the two of them held each other in the dim evening light, their mating frenzy finally calmed enough for them to recognise each other.

"Weasley?"

"Malfoy?"

They stared at one another with shock and disbelief. Bill was at once both entranced and appalled at the man who shared his bed. If he wanted to he knew he could kick up a huge fuss about what had gone on between them, as some might view his consent as somewhat dubious, but he examined his feelings and found he didn't want to.

As much as he might want to deny it, the hole left in his heart since Fleur died, had somehow become filled. And he had no doubt as to who had mended his wounded heart, and how. Clearly, he'd gone and got himself mixed up with _another_ veela. Oh joy.

Looking back at the Malfoy in his bed, he realised it must be Draco Malfoy, and he couldn't help laughing at the trademark sneer etched in his features. The young man was such a picture of horror and disgust, that Bill couldn't help himself – he burst into hysterics.

"M'sorry… you just look so _horrified!_ It's so funny, because you were the one that ran in here and leapt on me like some lust crazed lunatic!" His laughter died done until it was a soft chuckle. "Do you regret it?" He asked quietly, reaching out to smooth some of the hair away from Draco's forehead.

"I – no. I would be lying if I said I did. I guess this makes you my mate. I'm sorry for completing the bond without giving you the choice. Well, you still have a choice I suppose, you can send me away." He bit his lip and looked at the eldest Weasley child with sincere worry and doubt in his eyes.

"I'm not rejecting you, Draco. I don't think I could, even if I wanted to. And I don't want to. I find I rather like you. But I would like to spend some time getting to know you. I barely saw you during the war, and I heard you were holed up in Malfoy Manor for the last few years."

Draco smiled brilliantly and basked in the feeling that his mate was accepting him. He didn't care that Bill was a Weasley, he rather liked him too, and had admired him from afar for a long time. Ever since he had seen him at Hogwarts during the Tri-wizard Tournament in his fourth year, in fact. As well as that, he had no desire to begin wasting away like his father had.

No, he had found his mate, fortunately, and he was going to make sure the two of them led happy and fulfilled lives together.

A voice intruded on their privacy.

"Well, I guess this means we won't be needing the assistance of the Court veela representative after all. Congratulations on your bonding, gentlemen."

Before either of them could say anything, or protest at the intrusion, another voice broke in.

_"All the pieces are in place, time to being the end-game. Wouldn't want to be a wizzie!"_

* * *

**_Translations: _**

**_A'mael - Beloved_**

**_Corm corm'amin - Heart of my heart _**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter, Labyrinth or anything else you recognise. **

**A/N: Here is the next instalment people; it is something of a filler tho. Thank you for all your reviews and encouragement – I really appreciate it. I am going to try and speed up my updates, but I shall not make any promises I can't keep. I'm going to be in hospital on Friday, and so might encounter delays in the future. Nothing is certain yet, however. **

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

* * *

_"It's a crystal. Nothing more. But if you turn it this way and look into it, it will show you your dreams." _

* * *

**__**

**_9th June, 2005_****_ – Council Chambers, The Castle Beyond The Goblin City_**

Jareth and Elessar were seated side by side, at the head of the table. Sitting around the table was a strange mix of people. Each of Jareth's allies in the Underground had been contacted, and had duly sent their emissaries.

Represented at this gathering were the Fae, Dwarves, Veela, Fairies, Avariel, Elves, Vampires, Werewolves, Fieries, and a whole host of other beings that Elessar was unable to put a name to, currently. He would have to learn, for the future. But it was not an urgent need. Just now, they had other more pressing matters to see to – such as the reason why they had all been called here in the first place.

"Friends and allies, we have called you here to impart grave news. Three nights ago, we were visited by an avatar of the Fates. She intimated that they will be taking action against the wizards and witches of the Aboveground. Her words implied that our magical brethren will not be targeted, but we are not completely sure of that at this point. Regardless of whether their plans involve us directly, it would be foolish to assume we will not be affected – we most definitely _will_ be."

Ignoring the gasps of shock and the looks exchanged by the people seated at the table, Jareth rose from his chair and made his way over to the window.

"Magic is a strange business. I know I don't need to remind any of you of this fact. I find, as I grow older with each passing season, that there is always more to learn, more that I will probably never uncover. And, in some of my darker moments, I have regarded my magic as a right – my right – with which I have the power to impose my will on others. I know that this is not so. It has never been so, and neither will it ever be. I think I have been extremely lucky to have been allowed to come to this realisation independently, and have not been punished more severely." He turned back to face the occupants of the room, looking at each of them in turn, he could see their agreement in their eyes. Some even acknowledged him with nods. He pressed on.

"Magic is a gift – a privilege – to be used for the betterment of our community of a whole. It is something we should be, and I venture, _are_ grateful for. With it, we have the means to protect our families and our world, and we must never abuse this privilege. I am saddened and angered to say that the wizards some of us associate with Aboveground seem to have forgotten this fact. I am sure that many of you have heard the story of my betrothed, Prince Elessar, so I will not recite the details now. However, there are some important facts I feel I must draw your attention to." Jareth paused again, and glanced at Elessar – perhaps seeking permission, or merely support. He received a warm smile in return and gesture for him to continue.

"Not only did they steal one of our precious children, and twist him into a weapon he was never supposed to be, but when they were finished with their tool, they discarded it. And with it, they discarded the sacred magic which had saved their world. And for _what_, I ask you? As far as I and my people can discover – for _nothing!_ When Elessar turned his mind to healing, as his people are_born_ to do, he was reviled. _Reviled_! I – forgive me. I am still furious over what has been done, it – it does seem to overcome me, at times." Jareth faltered briefly as he attempted to regain control.

A soft touch at his elbow drew his attention, and he felt his anger evaporate at the contact. Elessar gave him a brief hug and a chaste kiss, no doubt a consideration to their company, and returned to his seat. The Goblin King took a deep breath, flashed his love a grateful smile, and organised his thoughts. Letting his eyes pass over the assembled council, he was pleased to see he was not the only one who was outraged at the situation, but he also knew that now was not the time for them to indulge their righteous fury.

That time _would_ come, however. It was now inevitable, even if the wizards were seemingly unaware of it. It mattered not, in any case. Their ignorance would be their doom.

"Now, the reason I have asked you to join us here, is because of the fallout of the action I believe the Fates will be taking. Those Aboveground will be involved in some way, and we must prepare ourselves for possible refugees. Princess Caredessi, I believe you have a preliminary report on the possibility of casualties…"

* * *

**_11th June, 2005_****_ – Arthur Weasley's Office, Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Department_**

Arthur Weasley was seriously worried.

The last few weeks had been chock-full of disturbing news, the first of which had been Harry Potter's disappearance. He coloured with shame to think of the way the world had treated their hero and saviour. He was personally more at fault than most, in his opinion, because he had made the boy trust him and open up to him.

He and Molly had noticed early on in the young wizard's life the tell-tale signs that he had been abused by his relatives. His children too, had realised something was very wrong with the boy's home life, but as parents he and his wife had been able to piece it together to get an accurate picture of what had gone on. They had tried as best they could to look after the child, and repair some of the damage done to him, and to a certain extent they had been successful.

But their treatment of him and their part in the betrayal of The-Boy-Who-Lived-Twice, made all of that hard work come crashing down around their ears. Truly, Arthur was surprised that Harry had not tried to gain his revenge on them. He might have been reduced to a squib by the Aurors and the Ministry, but it was not permanent. There were people out there who would have been more than happy to reverse the binding and in return, seduce one of the most powerful wizards to walk the land in centuries, over to some dark design.

And really, thinking about it now, who could have, in their heart of hearts, blamed him if he _had_ made them all pay? Who could really say that they would not have done something similar in his position? Anyone who said they would not have _at least_ been tempted was an absolute liar, or a saint.

Even saints had their limits however, and Harry seemed to be a different breed altogether.

Arthur snorted as he considered that thought – Harry _was_ a different breed. He wasn't even human. Listening to the tale of how the Dumbledore family had kidnapped and then used the child for their manipulations had been enough for Arthur to throw up his dinner. He had been literally sickened as he had learned all the details.

Of how they had stolen him from his crib when he was merely weeks old. How the one who had taken him had cursed his mother. How they had kept him in some kind of stasis and then leeched the magic from him to fuel their own magical cores. And then, when Albus Dumbledore had decided he needed a weapon to fight a war _he _had started, for all intents and purposes, they had used their stolen magic to warp his body and turn him human.

From what he could discover after he had heard the story, it was a miracle that Harry – or whoever he was – had survived as long as he did. The spells they had placed on him would apparently fight with his own core and make him sickly. His treatment at the hands of the Dursleys would only make it worse.

This wizard was also ashamed to admit that it horrified him even more because it made him think that if Dumbledore was willing to treat one innocent life so callously, who was to say he wouldn't do it again? Or hadn't already? Could he ever even trust a _single_ word the Old Man had told him over the years?

Looking back on it now, it was obvious that he and his family had been played. It was nothing but luck and Harry's sacrifices that had allowed his family to emerge from The Second Uprising unscathed.

He had gone over and over all of this with Molly, but she was been stubborn on the issue. As a mother she could appreciate horror of the crimes done to Harry, and did acknowledge that it _was _a crime. But she would not budge on the point that if it hadn't been done then Lord Voldemort might not have been defeated. She blatantly _refused_ to consider the fact that if Dumbledore had been more wise and caring in his treatment of the Riddle boy when he was a child, then none of this might ever have happened.

For his part, Arthur believed that if the Old Man had not been so wrapped up in how to draw more power from the elf baby his family had seized – and Aberforth had told him that at that time that problem was his brother's greatest concern – then he would have opened his eyes and _seen_what was happening right in front of them.

Of course, he was not the only one to blame – the _entire_ system was at fault.

_To this day,_ magical children were still left to grow up in muggle-run orphanages, and that was simply not acceptable. Magical children were being left in abusive homes, tortured by their parents for something they could not control, or change. The Ministry seemed blind – and Arthur did not know if it was wilfully, though it seemed so sometimes – to these problems and it appeared they had no plans to do anything about it – why if he…

"_If I what? What am I doing in this office, playing around with these toys!?! By sitting here and doing nothing I am just as culpable as everyone else!_"

He stood, ready to go out into the world and do – something – anything. But as he made his way to his door, determination in his every step, the Floo in his fireplace flared to life.

"Arthur – it's Bill! He's gone _missing_! No one has seen him for _days_! What if that _criminal_ has taken him!?!"

* * *

**_15th June, 2005_****_ – Elessar and Jareth's Private Sitting Room, The Castle Beyond The Goblin City_**

Elessar frowned as he stared down at his hands.

Jareth's personal healer had just left the room, after a brief examination which had left the young prince rather stunned. The news he had received had been a great shock, and Elessar was not sure if he thought it was a blessing or a curse at present.

Matters between his lover and he had advanced at a somewhat alarming rate. In a very short space of time, he had found himself forming an attachment so deep that at times, he felt rather overwhelmed. A large part of his mind wanted to throw caution to the wind and just let events take their course. His knowledge of his new situation grew with every passing day, and it seemed as though the truth of his heritage that had been awakened by Jareth's magic was helping him along the way.

His body, now that it had been restored, seemed to know it was an elf and everything that went along with that. Flying, healing, even the language was coming to him far easier than he had anticipated it would. Of course, he was more closely connected to his magic than a human was, and as was the way of his people, his magic was about renewing and regenerating life, so in some respects, it stood to reason that renewing and regenerating his _own_ life would feel perfectly natural.

But the part of him that was still somehow Harry Potter, even after all that had gone before, was reluctant to trust. Harry was scared of giving himself completely to Jareth. Harry was scared to show his vulnerability in front of his parents and siblings. Harry was frightened of succumbing to his elven nature and leaving what part of humanity he still held behind him.

It was not the first time such thoughts crossed his mind, and, as before, he wondered if he would ever lose that piece of him that had been Harry Potter for all those years.

The way his life had turned out, it was easy to see _why_ he could be so jaded and cynical. But identifying the reasons and then systematically trying to unlearn dozens of conditioned responses was a task so enormous, in his eyes, that he almost felt like he shouldn't bother. Added to that though, was the fierce desire to rip away anything of the wizard in him and incinerate it. _Obliterate_ it. He almost felt as though the remains of the human in him were like a cancer, a tumour which needed to be cut away before it could do any more damage.

He realised objectively that this was a staggeringly unhealthy view, but when faced with the task of trying to fix this broken mind of his, it seemed like an easier option. That to, was perfectly reasonable, depending on your point of view, of course. But, from Elessar's perspective, repairing the damage done to him since the day he had been stolen from his crib in the royal nursery seemed like a task too insurmountable to even attempt.

The news from this afternoon's appointment got thrown in with the already jumbled mess in his mind, and, sensing that it represented a pivotal moment for him and his future, Elessar rearranged himself comfortably on the chaise he had been reclining on, and waited – to see what would happen.

Which way would the scales tip?

He was carrying Jareth's heir.

The question was, was he happy or dismayed? Was this a blessing, or a curse?

* * *

Elessar had begun to have his suspicions about being pregnant, some days before. Apparently, such was normal for a magical being, because the presence of a child altered one's magic. As such, he was able to detect the new life within him, or at least, suspect its presence, very early on. The same phenomenon made it possible for the healer to diagnose his condition. He was also fairly sure he knew when their child had been conceived.

That particular night, when he and Jareth had joined once again, had been the same night they had discovered Draco and Bill Weasley in bed together, having just completed their bond. The ambient magic in the air when the two of them had stepped into the room had been so strong, that Elessar could practically taste it. It had enflamed him and he'd seen that it had done the same to Jareth. A few heated glances were all it took for the two of them to hastily take their leave and tumble into their bed in a tangle of limbs and questing hands.

Later that night, as he had slept beside his King, Elessar had sensed something about him had changed. He hadn't known what it was at the time, but after researching in the books his family had provided him with to learn about his people, he'd begun to have his suspicions.

Now that the healer had confirmed those suspicions, Elessar felt he could make some accurate assumptions on how this had happened. It really should have only been possible after they were officially mated, but he theorised that the magic he and his lover had been exposed to when they found Bill and Draco, had made the part of his body which enabled him to bear young believe that their bonding had taken place.

He wasn't sure if he was annoyed that it had happened so soon, since he and Jareth had been together for barely three weeks. He was aware that it was not unusual for the world he was born into, but again, the side of him that clung onto his humanity reeled at the extreme fast pace of their relationship.

He was comforted by the fact that, compared to others, theirs would not even be considered a whirlwind romance. Look at Lucius and Sirius, for example. Despite the separation which had lasted _years_, once they had admitted to the reality of their situation, they had been bonded in a matter of mere hours. The same for Bill and Draco. Even his own sister, Caredessi, had told him that when she and Elalaeryn had met she'd claimed him within _minutes_.

It seemed as though, in the Underground, when one found one's mate, one didn't waste time faffing around. One stepped forward to claim them and build one's life with them. In some ways, it was reassuring to know that he didn't have to risk his heart looking for the 'right one'. He knew without a doubt, since he had submitted to his Avariel instincts that Jareth was _him_. That _he_ was the only person he was supposed to kiss, to hold, to love, for the rest of his life. For all eternity, even.

But his damned trust issues kept rising up and standing in the way of him giving himself up to that love completely. Suddenly, a new thought crossed his mind.

Perhaps this child of theirs was the Fates' way of showing him that he was doing the right thing?

"_Ah, you begin to see, our winged child. Precious child._" The voice, which had so disturbed and frightened the wizards Above, did not worry Elessar. In fact the sound brushed past his ears and spread soothing warmth in his mind, filling him with tranquillity. "_Do not fear, our dearest child. We will take care of everything. We always do._"

And for the first time in a _very _long time, Prince Elessar sat back on his chaise with a serene, accepting smile, one hand idly rubbing back and forth, over his still flat abdomen.

All would be well, he could see that now. He smiled softly as he heard the door open and close, but didn't look up. Leaving one of his hands on his stomach he reached out the other to the man he knew had just entered the room. He didn't need to see him to know who it was, or that he was there.

"_Jareth._" He murmured, and the word was almost a caress. "Come, let me tell you of our blessing."

* * *

**_16th June, 2005_****_ – Harry and Jareth's Bedroom, Still In the Castle_**

Once he was assured that his lover was in no danger, nor suffering unduly from his condition, Jareth had been overjoyed at the news. It occurred to Elessar that his lover's reported harsh and cruel behaviour of years past was a result of the intense loneliness he had endured, whilst waiting for his mate. A mate whom neither Jareth, nor any of his subjects had held out much of hope ever finding again.

When the book – their last resort – had been sent Above, spirits had been high, to begin with at least. But as the years passed, and no word nor trace of him had been found, people had gradually begun to give up. It was frightening to him that, as with the world of the wizards, he – one man – could have such a profound effect on people's lives. And not just his family, or Jareth. But everyday, people. The goblins, even.

But, something he realised he would have to accept was that, what will be, will be. He could not change who he was, and for the first time in, well, _forever_, he had no wish to. He liked who he was, and he liked the way his life was going. He had a _future_ here. He could spend his days with a man he loved to distraction, care for his people, and heal his beloved animals. He could also care for their child, whenever he or she decided to pop into the world, and that was something he was incredibly excited about.

He held firm to the belief that the wizards were no longer his concern. He was now completely convinced that whatever plans the Fates had in store for the magical world Above were none of his business. Magic was their gift to bestow as they wished, and only they had a right to take it away. If they wanted him involved, they would make sure he knew about it. Therefore, he would go about his life here, Underground, and leave the Above alone.

He had more than done his duty by them. In fact, he had done a duty that should never have been his. He was glad that he had been able to rid that world of Voldemort, because he had been a blight upon the magic which needed to be removed. Like lancing a boil. But enough was enough. His time in that world was over with, and he owed them nothing.

No matter what punishment or penance the Fates extracted from the wizards, he would keep well out of it. He would not lament for them, but neither would he gloat on their circumstances. Instead, he would listen to his body as the life within it changed and grew, and perhaps he would take a little pleasure in discomfiting Jareth with his hormone induced mood swings.

They would not arrive for a few months yet, but that was no reason not to get some practice in now, right?

* * *

**_21st June, 2005_****_ – The Throne Room, The Castle Beyond The Goblin City_**

"Prince Elessar, if you would now say your vows?"

"Jareth. I promise to love you, to learn from you and to share with you. I promise I will always be with you, in body and mind. I promise I will always try to listen to you, and I promise never to go to sleep angry with you. I promise to support you, no matter what, and I promise to raise our children to understand that love and understanding are the most important things in the world. I love you for not being perfect, for having flaws and accepting mine. On this day, I pledge my heart to you, and I seek to join your life to mine, if you will have me. I pledge my whole heart, and I swear that no other holds sway over it."

"And now, Your Majesty?"

"Elessar. I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you. I love you not only for what you have made of yourself, but for what you are making of me. I love you for the part of me that you bring out. I knew I was in love with you when I could not bring myself to sleep, because reality was finally better than my dreams. On this day, I pledge my heart to you, and I seek to join your life to mine, if you will have me. I pledge my whole heart, and I swear that no other holds sway over it."


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter, Labyrinth or anything else you recognise.**

**A/N: I'm glad to get this in before the downtime scheduled for today. I am also sorry that it has taken so long to update. I've been very unwell for the last few months and though I am on the mend, things are still a bit difficult at the moment. Thanks for all the reviews. **

**This is the un-beta'ed version, I will replace it with the edited one when I receive it back from my beta, the fabulous Calanor. **

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

* * *

"_Don't pay any attention to them. They're just False Alarms. You get a lot of them in the Labyrinth, especially when you're on the right track..."_

* * *

**_29th June, 2005 – The Family Dining Room, Jareth's Castle_**

Summer had begun to settle in and make its presence known. The Underground was warm and its gardens and forests were bursting with colour. Fairies were moving gently from flower to flower, and Hoggle had been persuaded to put away his pesticide gun for the time being.

As the group of friends and family were gathering round the table for a night of celebration, a soft breeze flowed through the windows, bringing with it the scent of the roses growing just outside.

Elessar delighted in the sense of calm and serenity his surroundings afforded him, and spent many an hour listening to the sound of the birds and other creatures as they went about their lives. He often sat in the gardens and meditated, feeling the magic around him and within him. He could almost touch the magic coming from his child and with it came a profound sense of awe and wonder. A whole new being was growing inside him, and he felt connected to life in a way he had never experienced before. In fact taking part in such a miracle humbled him.

His was not the only miracle taking place at this time. His sister, Caredessi, had joyfully announced not three days before that she and Elalaeryn were expecting their first child. The King and Queen were in raptures over the news for hours afterwards, and Elessar had learned that children among the Avariel were scarce and every life was precious.

Elalaeryn had commented that there must be something in the air around the castle, since both his wife and brother in law had fallen pregnant at nearly the same time. Others had speculated that perhaps this was the Fates' way of rewarding their faithful children, or instead, it could just be that the concentration of wild magic in the area assisted with the conceptions. No one really spent much time trying to discern the reasons, especially since there was so much rejoicing to be done.

This particular night, the royal family of Faenya-Dail, the representatives of the various races, the wizards from Aboveground who had been granted sanctuary and of course, Jareth and Elessar met to celebrate Princess Caredessi's good news.

Lucius and Sirius were happily chatting away with the tiny delegate from the Fairies; one of them had been kind enough to cast a _sonorous _on her so that she would not have to shout to make herself heard. They both appeared healthier than they had ever been, even when they were young men. Draco was sat on the other side of his father from his new step father, and seemed very pleased to be there.

He and Elessar had met several times since the former Gryffindor's wedding, and had resolved to try and get past their previous enmity and become true friends. From him, the elf had learned that Draco was overjoyed that Sirius had been found. Watching his father slowly slip away had been one of the most painful and horrific things the Slytherin had ever gone through and he was beyond grateful that they had found a way to heal him.

The young part-veela was also having a grand old time with his new bond mate. The matching of a Weasley and Malfoy was bound to give off sparks, even at the best of times, and true to form, they did. But Bill seemed to have endless patience where Draco was concerned, and they just seemed to balance each other. Watching them only further proved his theory that the Fates really knew their business, in Elessar's opinion. If nothing else, no one could ever say that Bill and Draco's life together would be boring.

* * *

Remus and Severus had not had as easy a time of things as others did. The both of them carried many scars, emotional and physical, and life had dealt each of them a very raw deal. It saddened the young elf that perhaps neither man would ever truly heal from the wrongs done to them in their lives. Time has its way of softening things, but sometimes, even forever isn't long enough.

That wasn't to say that the two of them were depressed or unhappy all the time. Far from it. Elessar had been surprised when he walked into their sitting room and found Severus laughing uproariously. He was so shocked that he had stood still for a full minute before blinking and making his way over to a chair.

Remus had confessed to him that matters between the two of them _were_ improving. The former potions professor had opened up to his on-off lover and shared some of his darkest moments with him, and Remus told Elessar that he could practically _feel_ the weight that had lifted off the other man's soul when he had done so. In his mind, he believed that though there was a long road ahead of them, they were forming the foundations for a true partnership, one that would guide them through the obstacles ahead.

And also, though this was something the young elf thought he really would be better off _not _knowing, the sex was apparently fantastic.

"Wha – yes, well. I can see how that would be, um… comforting. Would you excuse me I have something I…" Was all Elessar had said to that particular revelation, before dashing off to be _anywhere_ else, as long as it wasn't in that room.

* * *

Jareth and Elessar had been joined in a combined Avariel – Fae bonding ceremony just over a week before. It had been everything they had wanted, and more. Of necessity it had been a lavish, grand affair, since it wasn't every day that people of such exalted positions were married. But it had lost none of its poignancy for all the pomp and circumstance.

Queen Enaberia had shed tears of pure joy throughout the whole service, but was especially moved by the vows, as were most of the guests in fact. The two men had chosen to write their own vows, which had been viewed as a radical departure from tradition by most, but they had pretty much ignored the naysayers. After all, this _was_ their wedding, and as it would be the only one either of them would ever have, they would do it their way.

Nobody really argued all that strenuously, however. Jareth may have changed since his mate had flown back into his life, but the people remembered all too well what he was capable of, if his ire was sufficiently roused. So, the Underground and all its people made the decision to celebrate this wondrous event with its rulers and give thanks for the happiness the Avariel brought to their king.

The union being magical in nature, had already begun to affect the innate magic of the realm. The Labyrinth, which had turned towards darkness and chaos since Sarah Williams had triumphed over its master, was showing signs of renewing and repairing itself. The gentle influence of the Avariel magic was slowly and surely working its way through the convoluted jungle, and turning it once again into a place of mischief and adventure. The evil which had started to grow there was squashed quickly, and its gardens and hedgerows were showing signs of life once again.

* * *

On this night of laughter and happiness, the tingle of magic in the air was almost palpable. Jareth had paused during the meal more than once to meditate on the impressions his senses were leaving on him. Something was about to happen, that much he knew. And, all things considered, he was fairly certain he knew what it was.

The Fates had been uncharacteristically blunt about their intentions, and he could feel that the day of reckoning was almost upon them. He and his family and associates had prepared as much as they could based on what little information they had. But even though he _knew _the Fates would be taking action against the wizards, he had no idea what they would actually _do_, or how severe their punishment would be. Would they give the magical people of the Aboveground a chance to redeem themselves? To appeal their case?

Would they even know what was happening to them and why? Or even who was behind it? He had to assume that they would be told; otherwise the punishment would lose a great deal of its potential effectiveness.

Just as he was reaching for a carafe of wine, the air buzzed and the avatar they had seen before appeared.

"_It will be upon us tomorrow. As the sun reaches its zenith. Be prepared, our children, but do not fret._"

She did not linger to hear the startled gasps of the people gathered around the table, for within a second of delivering her news, she was gone.

As the others looked to their neighbours to exclaim over this announcement, Jareth placed his arm around his mate. Though he knew that Elessar was favoured, and thus, it was unlikely that direct, physical harm would befall him on the morrow, he could not help worrying on how being confronted by the people who vilified and persecuted the young elf would affect him. Especially since he was now carrying their first child within him, and any stress could be harmful to both of them.

He knew Elessar was strong and healthy, but that did not stop him from being concerned. He turned to face his lover, his distress evident in his eyes.

"It will be alright, Jareth, do not worry. The Fates will make sure of it. And no, don't disagree, because not only will all of our friends and family be there, but _you_ will also be there, to watch over and protect both of us. So, I say again, do not worry. We trust you."

* * *

Many a person who had been present in the dining room that evening found it difficult to sleep that night. What little they knew of what was to come inflamed and excited them, and just as strongly, it made them quake with fear and dread. Such strong emotions only grew with the magic in each of them, and in the surrounding lands, so much so, that the tension reached a fever pitch.

There was nothing to be done, however, and all they could do was wait. They each handled it as best they could, in their own ways.

* * *

Though they sought comfort in their newly formed bond, Draco and Bill were worried, albeit for different reasons. And, unfortunately, they could both feel the other's emotions and their insecurity and doubts fed off each other. As they argued back and forth, it occurred to Bill that there may be an underlying issue, which was driving his mate's verbal attacks and after concentrating on it for a moment, he was fairly sure he knew what it was.

"I will not choose them over you, Draco." He said calmly, during a moment of silence.

"I – what? I don't know what you're talking about Weasley. Do try to stop blathering such nonsense, I need to sleep, thank you very much." He replied haughtily, somewhat chagrined that his partner knew him so well already.

"I mean it," Bill continued, unperturbed by his young mate's snappish reply. "I will not choose my family over you. Yes, I do love them, and yes I am concerned over what is to become of them. However, I have made my choice, and that choice, is you. I choose you. I will always choose you. Do you understand?"

"I – I do. I'm sorry for…"

"Sssh. It's okay. Everything is going to be okay."

* * *

"What do you think will happen to them? To the Wizarding World, I mean?"

"I really do not know, Sirius. We – all of us – have speculated endlessly over possible outcomes. The list is about as long as my arm, and only continues to grow. I do so detest being fatalistic, but really this situation calls for it. What will come, will come. Though I confess that I find myself strangely unmoved by the plight of my former peers. I have lived apart from them for so long, that any connection I felt with them has been severed."

Lucius shifted in bed as his beloved climbed in beside him. He raised his eyes from the book he had been reading when he noticed the other man had remained silent.

The Court Veela Representative had recommended that they continue their usual habits and hobbies around each other, so that they could grow comfortable with their relationship. A bond which had been denied for so long needed to be eased into, gradually. Though the two of them could not deny the whirlpool of passion and desire for each other that rested within them, they understood that things had to be taken slowly, now that the urgency to copulate had faded.

Both were understandably uncomfortable with who they were and had a great deal of mistrust and hostility to work though. Lucius' long decline and confinement, and Sirius imprisonment – both in Azkaban and the oubliette – had worn down most of their resistance, but it was not easy to build a life with someone whom you had despised for so long.

Merella, the veela who had visited them, had made several suggestions, and sharing mundane, every day activities was just one of them.

"I think I can see what you mean. In all its wisdom, the wizarding part of Britain denied me a fair trial more than once. It did not even offer me forgiveness in death. My supposed death, that is. You're right, Lucius. What will come, will come. It's really not our problem, is it?"

* * *

"Lupin, will you stop all that pointless pacing and get into bed?!" Severus snapped and Remus sighed.

He was afraid for what tomorrow might bring. Technically, he was not a wizard and so he may be spared from the retribution these Fates that the Goblin King kept mentioning were planning. But he could not feel any strong confidence in relying on a mere technicality. At best, he reasoned that he could be denied his magic, and at worst, it might be death which awaited him and Severus.

In the deepest recesses of his soul, he was not as afraid of death as he perhaps, ought to be. That part of him believed death was like a long, peaceful slumber, and in the years that he had struggled with depression and loneliness, he had almost welcomed the possibility. He had considered the idea of taking his own life more than once. He had never made an attempt, however, not even a half-hearted one.

But sometimes, when he was waiting at a pedestrian crossing say, a voice in his mind whispered to him. Urging him to step in front of that bus which was coming towards him, pressing him to end his pain, filling him with the anticipation of relief. It was not something he spoke about with other people. But it did cross his mind. Doubts about whether the life he was leading, and his few blessings were worth the difficulties and the stress that went with the rest of his life, and his place in the world, led him to question what the point of it all was.

Despite all of that, however, he was afraid of dying. He wasn't at all convinced that there was anything to move on to, once a body died. He could believe in souls and the afterlife in the abstract, but…

"I'm sorry, Severus. I can't help worrying, well. You know what I mean. I'm sure you don't need me to repeat it all over again."

"No I bloody well do not. And stop being so understanding, it makes my teeth hurt!"

Remus climbed into bed and turned the lights out. There was silence for a moment. Then Severus drew his lover closer and whispered softly: "I love you."

* * *

Elessar's parents had settled into their bed in the room Jareth had provided them, with barely a word. Two people who had been together for so long didn't always need words to tell the other what they were feeling. Dellandario knew his wife was afraid for their children and their people.

The Goblin King was right when he had declared at the conference that, no matter what happened; their world would not be left unchanged. He had faith that, though it would be difficult, it would be a change for the better. But it did not stop him from also being scared that his family may be hurt, especially his unborn grandchildren.

What he could also not deny, was his anger.

Anger, that he would not be able to take direct and personal action against those who had wronged him and his people. Those who, in their ignorance and arrogance had threatened the lives of thousands upon thousands of others. For, as the Seer had predicted, had Jareth remained unmated, the future of the Underground looked tenuous at best. The kidnapping of his infant son had placed the very existence of the realm in jeopardy and he truly believed that they should pay for such a crime.

They would be punished, this much he knew. But he had to be honest with himself and admit that it annoyed him that he could not rain down justice on these wizards himself. He would have to live with his disappointment, however.

Far be it from him to go against the Fates.

* * *

After the pronouncement from the little girl, and the brief words they exchanged in the dining room, Jareth and Elessar retired to their rooms early. They shared a bath and took comfort and assurance from each other when they later shared their bodies. Their joining was gentle and sweet, their magic connecting in such a way that they could barely distinguish themselves as separate beings.

When the candles had been snuffed and they lay in bed, both men stared at the ceiling, contemplating the momentous events that they knew tomorrow would bring.

Elessar felt a strange dichotomy in his feelings. On one side, he was chafing at the bit for a chance at revenge. On the other, he felt calm, detached, and very sure that he had a minimal part to play. The world above was no longer his, he need take no interest in it if he did not wish to. He _did _want to take part in it, after all, some of the goblins had become very dear friends and he knew that most of them wanted to continue with their lives above if possible. So, as a friend and a monarch, he would help them do so, to the best of his ability.

On the whole, he was glad that the situation was to be resolved, one way or another. No matter what happened, after tomorrow, the question of the wizards of Britain would be answered.

"It must be done." He remarked to Jareth.

"Yes, it must."

* * *

Griphook and Ragnok were sharing a rather superior vintage as they considered the agenda for the following day. They toasted each other's good health, and then one of them remarked:

"Can't wait to see the look on the old goat's face."

* * *

**_30th June, 2005 – The Atrium, The Ministry of Magic_**

Things had not been going well for Albus Dumbledore lately.

Especially since they day the avatar of the Fates appeared in his study. That was also the day his phoenix familiar abandoned him, and to his chagrin, a lot of his credibility disappeared with Fawkes. He had not realised that a large number of his supporters trusted him because he was the chosen of a phoenix.

Having examined the situation from all angles, Dumbledore had decided to place the source of his frustration and anger at the door of one Harry Potter. Since the day of his disappearance, things had been heading steadily down hill for the old Headmaster. He had not been as annoyed or upset as people had believed when his pawn had turned away from him. Truth be told, the old man was pleased that the boy seemed not to want to involve himself in politics or the school, since it meant his own revered position in wizarding society had been even more secure.

He had acted as he did, solely because his long time associates, such a Molly Weasley, had demanded that he _take_ action against the child. He had not hesitated, since locking the young man up, or binding his magic – the two possible outcomes he had been warned of – suited his needs sufficiently. He really hadn't cared either way what happened, but after careful consideration, the removal of Harry's magic only made him feel even more confident.

When he had first tasted the wealth of the infant elf's magic, he had been overcome – enraptured, even. It rejuvenated his own, and made his magical core swell so, that he's almost felt as if his power were leaking out of his pores. From then on, nearly all of his plans centred on how he could get more, take more – that was all he wanted, desired.

Sadly, this fixation of his took his attention away from the rest of his life, and it was thus that made him miss the dangerous power growing in Tom Riddle. From a purely objective point of view, he could see how his actions, or lack thereof, led directly to the creation of The Dark Lord Voldemort. It was simple cause and effect. And thus he knew he would have to take steps against him when he threatened the world.

In Albus' mind, giving up his beautiful source of pure magic was a great sacrifice, for The Greater Good. It had occurred to him that he should play a more central role, and not force this child to essentially do his dirty work for him, but he reasoned that away well enough. After all, was he not an elderly man now? And, if he understood the situation, would not the elf – a being of goodness and purity – want to destroy one who threatened the world and the innocents who lived in it? Truly, his doubts were like flies, swatted away with a wave of his hand.

But it seemed that the plague that was Harry Potter was not done with him yet, and the thought did briefly flash across his mind that _karma,_ might have something to do with it. If that was so, however, why did it not recognise all he had done to protect their world?

* * *

Currently, he was seated in a comfortable chintz armchair, on a raised dais in front of a crowd of wizarding folk. The Minister had called a public meeting, to discuss what the Aurors and the Ministry were doing about Harry's disappearance. No one had seen hide nor hair of him for six weeks.

Every contact that every Order member, Auror, government officials… the lot – you name it, they'd all been approached for help and information, and turned up a big, fat nothing. Added to that, a few more people had turned up missing.

Firstly were Draco and Lucius Malfoy, on examination, the Aurors had found their Manor completely closed off and seemingly emptied of any and all precious items. Secondly was Remus Lupin, whom Dumbledore knew had returned to the UK, but appeared to have dropped off the map after leaving Heathrow Airport and arriving in central London. Thirdly, Bill Weasley had vanished just over three weeks ago, and his mother was frantic with worry.

Lastly, and most importantly in Albus' mind, his own special pawn, Severus Snape had been missing for exactly one month. His home too, was shut up and anything personal had been removed. He had tried on several occasions to summon the man through the mark he had burned onto his skin, but to no avail. It was as if he had somehow managed to remove it, for if Severus was dead he should still have been able to sense something. But instead, there was nothing.

He was firmly convinced that Harry was somehow involved in the vanishing act these people had pulled, and, to make matters worse, it looked as though some of them had at least gone willingly, given the state of their homes and monetary affairs. The goblins were being extremely tight lipped with any information relating to the missing men, and had resisted any and all Ministry attempts to access their accounts and files. Albus too, had no luck in trying to negotiate with them, and had been most thoroughly dismissed from the bank whenever he tried to enter it with anything other than his own financial transactions in mind.

Even more bizarre, was that when you put together the list of people he strongly suspected of being with Harry, wherever he was, it became difficult to spot any kind of pattern, or relationship between them. Remus and Severus he knew were on/off again lovers, their ill-conceived bond bringing them back together and throwing them apart again over the years. Albus had interfered here and there when it suited his purposes, of course, but he was sure neither of them knew about that fact.

Remus and Harry had been close when he was younger, but in later years, their friendship had practically disappeared. Severus had never liked James Potter's son, so why was he now with him? And Bill Weasley – he had never been close to the child, so why him as well? And the Malfoys? Surely, they were enemies, despite anything that had gone before. So, why? Why, why, why?

Where was the blasted boy!?!

* * *


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter, Labyrinth, or anything else you recognise.**

**A/N: Apologies for the long absence. My health has been up and down, and it's been difficult to knuckle down and write. This is nearly finished now, and I am fully committed to finishing this story ahead of any other projects. I've just got a new laptop though, so can now write when I'm laid up in bed, which is where I am at the moment. Thanks for all the reviews and support; I appreciate every single one of them.**

* * *

Chapter Fifteen

* * *

_"It's against the rules to throw other people's heads."_

* * *

**_30th June, 2005_****_ – The Atrium, The Ministry of Magic_**

"I assure you, ladies and gentlemen, the Ministry of Magic is not resting idly on its laurels. We are doing everything possible to locate Harry Potter and to neutralise the threat he poses to our society."

Cameras clicked and flashed while the Minister spoke, and the quills of the journalists gathered there were scribbling away like crazy. Even now, after everything that had happened, news of Harry Potter could still sell out newspapers and various other publications.

The Minister finished his speech, mainly repeating what had already said, albeit in different words, and then advised them that he would be taking questions from the floor.

Predictably, Rita Skeeter was the first one with her hand in the air. "Yes, Minister Fudge, why have you not located Dr Potter before now? In fact, how was he able to disappear in the first place? Reports have it that the DMLE was keeping tabs on him?" Thankfully, she stopped her barrage of questions at that point.

"_Dr _Potter is a notorious criminal, Rita, as you well know. He was also connected to the mind of You-Know-Who while he was still alive. He must have learned some dark method of concealing himself and is using that to thwart our efforts to find him. As for your other questions, we have been keeping track of him; however, it appears the Aurors assigned to this task have not been as vigilant as they should be. Rest assured, they will be disciplined appropriately."

Either the Minister did not notice the glares sent his way by every member of the DMLE, or he didn't care. He was in his element here; the crowd was hanging off his every word.

He enjoyed his position of power, and after the Potter boy had defeated the Dark Lord, he had begun to have serious worries that his days in office we numbered. Happily, he'd found that he had been worrying needlessly, as once he'd exposed the little upstart for the pretender he was, he had won the following election with a landslide.

"Next question." Fudge declared to the room.

"Yes, Minister Fudge. We at the Quibbler would like to know what you intend to do with Dr Potter when you find him." Stated Luna's father from far back in the crowd.

"Ah, a good question. Since he has violated the rules of his sentence, he will likely be taken to Azkaban. This will depend on the level of threat we find him to pose to our society. This government does not intend to let someone capable of harming our world go free. If we find him to be too severe a danger, it is possible he would be sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss. This is all hypothetical at this time of course, but I feel it is necessary for the public to know how far we will go to ensure their safety." Fudge declared, just about managing to keep a smug smile from his face. It wouldn't do to be too self satisfied with himself, after all, would it? At least, not in public.

"_Yes, how far would you go? Have far have you gone? And where will your journey take you, mortal? _

It was the body of a child, and the voice of the child, but every person in the room felt the sheer force of the presence of this so-called child.

"_If you were to face Judgement now, how would you fare? How clean is your soul? Can you stand by your decisions, live with the weight of them? Are you truly deserving of the power we have gifted you?"_

There was silence for a moment as every eye in the room focused on the little girl who had appeared out of thin air on the dais, just to the left of the Minister. Even those who wished to look away could not. She stared back at each and every one of them, and then just as they thought she would speak again, she disappeared.

Cornelius Fudge, who had started to feel real panic rise in his breast, breathed a sigh of relief when the… person, or whatever it was vanished.

"Well, ah, ladies and gentlemen, my fellow wizards and witches, I am not sure what…"

His words were cut off when a great flash of light and a strong wind swept through the room. Then it was dark. Even though it was coming up to midday, and there were great, big windows on the side of the building to let in the sunlight, the whole room was pitch black.

When the lights went up again, the dais had been replaced by a large, stone edifice, shaped in a semicircle. It looked something like the benches which judges sat on in muggle courts, except this was much more vast and imposing.

Seated in the centre was the little girl they had seen earlier, and, on either side of her, were a strange assortment of people. They seemed to be humanoid in appearance, though their faces were more angular, and refined than the average human's. There were two women, and several men, and nearly all of them were glaring down at the magical folk collected in front of them.

The chairs which the people assembled for the press conference had been sitting in only moments before, had been removed, and in their place were rows upon rows of uncomfortable, wooden pews. The crowd was forced to sit in them, whether they liked it or not.

"_You may wonder why you are here. You may wonder who we are. You may also receive answers to these questions." _She paused. _"Then again, you may not."_

She looked around the room, at the faces of the people gathered, looked into their hearts and minds, and did not like what she saw.

_"Wizards and witches of Great Britain, you are assembled here to be tried for your crimes. You may not protest and you may not leave until these proceedings are complete. You must nominate one of your kind to speak for you. You have five minutes to comply or Judgement will be made without your input."_

A dull roar of noise begun almost immediately as people turned in their seats to discuss this with the people surrounding them. From his place on the judging panel, Elessar could see that the entire population of wizarding Britain was present, even the children.

Witches and wizards were looking to their neighbours in confusion, clearly some of them had been whipped away from their homes, evidenced by a plump woman off to one side wearing an apron which was covered with flour. She even held a spatula in her left hand.

Possibly, the only ones who were not in the pews below, were Bill, Draco, Remus, Sirius, Lucius and Severus. They were concealed behind Elessar and his family. For what purpose, he wasn't quite sure.

In fact, it had been rather a surprise to be whisked away from the Underground and end up here, in the Ministry's atrium. He had known that something would happen, he just hadn't expected something quite like this.

Though, considering it carefully, he could perhaps see why this had been presented as a trial. It was a format most people would be able to understand, and it would ensure they knew exactly why whatever was going to happen, would happen. He didn't think that any defence in the world would be able to get them out of being punished, but maybe, for those who truly were innocent, clemency could be granted. Perhaps.

Near the front, he spotted some of his worst tormentors – Dumbledore, Fudge, the Weasleys and Hermione. Though, thinking about it, he imagined she was probably a Weasley by now. He guessed that those assembled would pick Dumbledore, given the all-wise persona he had gone to great trouble to create and foster.

He did not know of the tongue lashings the old man had been subjected to over the last few weeks, nor did he know that his status as a non-human had been revealed to a select few. As such, he did not think it odd when his prediction came true and Albus Dumbledore was indeed chosen as the one to speak on behalf of British wizard kind.

"I will speak for this congregation." He stated, and while there were a few mutters in the crowd, no one disagreed out loud.

"_So be it. Let the trial commence."_

* * *

"Perhaps we might know what it is we are on trial for, first? And perhaps, also, who you are to be bringing us to trial?" The old goat bleated, and Elessar scoffed at him quietly.

No one but Jareth seemed to hear him, and he gratefully accepted the silent support his mate was offering when he held his hand.

"_The first is a valid question, the second is an insolent one. You do not fool me, Wizard Dumbledore. You know who I am, and who I represent. But for the ignorance of those you represent I shall tell you._

When she spoke again, her voice resonated with the voices of thousands.

**_"We are The Fates. Some call us Gods. Some call us The Powers That Be. You live by our grace and your magic is our gift. You are our children and your lives belong to us."_**

The girl closed her eyes for a moment, and almost seemed to relish in the gasps of shock and the palatable fear which rose in the people present.

"Wha – What has occurred to bring the attention of The Fates?" Dumbledore asked, and it was obvious that even he was afraid.

"_You are on trial for abusing the gifts we have bestowed on you. Your society is fundamentally flawed. You view your magic as a right, not a privilege. You use it for your own personal gain and do not think of the consequences of your actions which are suffered by others. You look down on other magical beings, believing that they are less than you are, because they are not human. In short, you disgust us."_

Jareth could not tell from his position if the crowd of mortals below was more shocked or outraged by this declaration. In fact, it was possible that only a few of them were even thinking clearly enough to understand what was happening to them. He could not find it in his heart to feel sorry for them however, and wasn't really sure what that made him.

Perhaps it was simply that Elessar's arrival in his life had not changed him as much as he had thought. The cruel side of him was still there, it just didn't emerge very often anymore. Truthfully though, when his eyes caught those of a little boy on the front row, he did soften against his will. The child looked lost and confused, and tugging on his mother's arm didn't seem to be getting her attention.

"_I do not wish to tarry here all day, not that it would matter much if I did, but Time has his own things to be getting on with. The charges against your kind are too numerous to list. So we shall deal with the matter which recently brought you to our attention. The matter of Tom Riddle and Harry Potter."_ The Fate looked down at Dumbledore and indicated for him to speak.

"I – What is it you wish to discuss about that particular matter? It is a painful subject for many here, as you must know. I do not think it wise to –"

"_Do not think to offer your pitiful counsel to me, old man. Do not think you are now, or will ever be in a position to question us or our orders. The facts are simple. Wizard kind has ignored its children, and instead of treating them with the love and devotion they deserve, you leave them to rot in orphanages and abusive homes. What say you to this?"_

"That is not fair example. With Grindlewald active during those times, it was not possible for every single person to be accounted for. Yes, it is regrettable that Mr Riddle was raised in such a manner, however –"

Dumbledore was cut off again. It seemed patience was not this particular avatar's strong suit.

"_Excuses. Why was nothing done when he appealed for better housing? Why was he not aware of whom he could turn to, outside of school for help? Why was his housing not assessed to ensure it was suitable? Why was no effort made to find him an adoptive family? It seems as though your society has not progressed since the Dark Ages. It is not enough for you to cower in fear, hiding from those without magic. People in isolation stagnate. _

_The world outside of magic has not. It has moved on, it has developed, it has strived every day to improve and innovate. And it has grown. There are currently somewhere in the region of six billion people without magic in the world. You are severely outnumbered, yet you seem unwilling to change or progress, nor to take the measures needed to ensure the survival of your own kind. _

_Anyone you perceive as different is to be shunned, persecuted and even killed. And that leads us on to one of your biggest mistakes. Our precious child, the one you called 'Harry Potter'"._

"Too right he's a bloody big mistake!"

"Yeah, good riddance to bad rubbish!"

"What does the kid mean – precious child!?"

"What crap!"

Other such shouting continued, until every being in the room felt the temperature drop abruptly, and they shivered from the cold, both around them and coming from the deathly stare of the avatar before them.

"**_BE SILENT PITIFUL HUMANS!"_**

From his vantage point, Jareth was not sure if the wizards and witches gathered there stopped talking due to fear, or some kind of magical compulsion. Of course, it was possible it was a mixture of both, the girl had a very loud scream.

He had not failed to notice, however, that Elessar had tensed when his former name was mentioned, and was still radiating distress from his position next to him.

Knowing it was bad for both him and the baby, he did what he could to soothe him. He shuffled slightly closer to the other man, manoeuvring him gently until Elessar's left hand side was resting back against his chest. This made his mate glance up at him with a tremulous smile, and Jareth could help but notice that the erstwhile wizard was wringing his hands in his lap. Realising that this would not do at all, he took hold of both of the smaller, yet elegant hands and held them in one of his own. The other, he used to rub soothing motions on Elessar's still taught belly.

Jareth would later theorise that it was the reminder of the shining future they had lying ahead of them that helped it mate regain his centre so quickly. That, and that the avatar had really started laying into his former friends and associates, and who would want to miss that?

* * *

"_You stole our precious child from its family. You imprisoned him and used him to fuel your own selfish greed. You set him up to save a nation which frankly would have been better off destroyed."_

The little girl was really gaining momentum now, and no one could take their eyes off her.

"_You gave him to despicable people who abused him, starved him and belittled him. You left his real family to suffer and grieve for the child they lost. When he had saved your kind and merely wanted to live his life in peace, you turned on him, like the fickle, cowardly backstabbers you are. You turned him out of your world, and dared to steal his magic from him."_

_"**Magic which was never yours to give or take in the first place!"**_

The multitude of voices which had identified themselves as The Fates practically roared out this last sentence. Nobody present was under any illusion that they were seriously angered, furious even. More than one person had wondered however, why they were this annoyed on the behalf of one orphan boy.

"_Perhaps if this were your only offence, we would simply punish those directly involved. Or maybe we would have allowed the aggrieved parties to take their revenge and not involve ourselves at all. However, this is not the case._

_Your society has become a blistering sore on the face of magic, and it needs to be lanced. For too long, you have shunned and persecuted those who you perceive as different or unworthy. Vampires, werewolves, and banshees... the list goes on. Including even those you label as 'Dark' wizards. All these are our children and all were created for a purpose._

_You fear these beings because they are more powerful than you, and unfamiliar to you. Instead of trying to learn more about them, to work with them to find peaceful ways to coexist, you hunt and destroy them. Why?"_

She looked out over the crowd and practically dared someone, anyone to speak and challenge her. She was not disappointed.

"Because they are dangerous. They threaten our way of life, our families. This threat needs to be contained or eradicated. Just like the Potter child."

Cornelius Fudge was ever a rash and abrasive fool.

"_Just like the Potter child, you say? The Potter child, as you call him, never truly existed. Lily Potter, our daughter, was barren. It was not her fate to bear young. Yet one of you wizards decided to interfere. To steal an elf baby and disguise him as Harry Potter."_

Gasps of shock reverberated round the room and the people present exclaimed over this new information.

_"I see that this is not getting us anywhere. You are too stuck in your ways to change now. Even were we to give you a chance, you would promise to our faces to mend your ways, and then plan, futilely, to deceive us behind our backs."_

The girl sitting in judgement over the wizards and witches of Great Britain grew pensive, and her eyes distant.

"What –" Albus Dumbledore gulped, trying to bring forth the courage he felt he needed to ask his next question. "What is it that you are saying, ah, Madam?" Clearly he had no idea how to address the avatar.

"**_We have decided our verdict._**"

* * *

Elessar looked over the people collected in the pseudo courtroom, and was struck immediately by the number of people actually gathered there. Clearly, there were a lot less wizards and witches in Britain than he had originally thought.

Another thing he was struck by, was that could not deny the fear he could see in their eyes. They were truly worried about the verdict The Fates had decided for them. He wondered if they really understood the reason why they had been brought there. Could it be that their fear was clouding their minds, and their shock was rendering them incapable of taking in what was happening?

Sure, she had told them in no uncertain terms, but had they really listened? Obviously, The Fates thought not. And he reminded himself not to be so big headed to believe this was solely about him. According to Jareth and the goblins, direct action of this kind had been brewing for some time.

His treatment by the wizards was apparently the last straw.

Elessar tore his gaze away from the frightened people below and looked at his family. His father's, mother's and even his sister's faces were full of grim satisfaction. Though it made him uncomfortable, he could not deny them said satisfaction. They had grieved for him for nigh on two hundred years, that was something he really could never fully understand, unless he had lived through it himself.

Jareth, however, even though he had also grieved for the loss of his mate, currently only had eyes for him and their baby. The baby was really only a speck at the moment, but the Goblin King fussed over him endlessly. He found it both comforting and exasperating, but wouldn't trade his new situation for the world.

When he had first arrived in the Underground, he was swept up into a whirlwind of events, and for a while there, it was easier just to go with the flow, rather than question things. He had been so happy to have his magic back, and to feel alive for the first time in years, that he hadn't wanted to risk rocking the boat.

Now though, the castle and the Labyrinth, all of it felt like home. Where he really found solace, however, was in the arms of his mate. He had never felt so connected to anyone before, so wonderfully in tune. They just... fitted together. His magic sang every time Jareth touched him just so...

A gentle nudge brought him back to the present, and by the glint in Jareth's eyes, he could tell his mate had some idea what he had been thinking about. He knew for sure, when his King mouthed silently to him, "_Later._"

* * *

"Please tell us your verdict." Dumbledore requested in a subdued voice.

Here was a foe he could not best, and adversary he would never be able to conquer. His soul practically forbade even contemplating resistance. After all, these were the ones who had created him. No, he would have to take his chances, along with the rest of British wizard kind.

"_Those of you who are adults will be stripped of your magic. Those of you we have judged to be truly repentant will be given a chance to earn it back. Your children are innocent of the crimes you have committed and will be allowed to prove themselves worthy of the gifts we have given them._

_For you to understand those you have shunned, you will need to interact with them, learn from them. Be ruled by them."_

**_"From this day forward, the wizards and witches of Britain will fall under the rule of King Jareth and his Consort, the Royal Prince Elessar of the Underground. Heed your rulers, and your magic may yet be returned."_**

**_"WE HAVE SPOKEN. WE HAVE JUDGED. SO MOTE IT BE."_**

And from the mouths of the wizard folk present great cries of turmoil and loss were wrenched. None present were left unchanged, save those who had already submitted themselves to the rule of King Jareth.

Much later, Bill, Sirius and Severus would reason that because they had accepted the bonds they had made with 'non-humans', they had already proven to The Fates that they were not as prejudiced as their brethren. Whatever the reason, they walked away from The Judgement with light, but grateful hearts, glad that they had been deemed worthy of their magic.

Never again would they count it as their right, to use and abuse at will.

* * *

Once the pronouncement was made, the courtroom facade flickered away, and the Atrium returned to normal. The room was still large enough to hold the people present, yet the only ones cognizant of that fact were the convoy from the Underground.

They were stood on the dais that Fudge had been addressing the press from, and could only describe the scene below as pandemonium. Adult witches and wizards alike were screeching and screaming, bemoaning the loss of their magic and crying out to The Fates to give it back. Some were even waving their wands, trying to cast, but failing.

Elessar turned to Jareth with a sad smile. "Whatever happens, our world will not be left unchanged, right?" He squeezed his lover's hand. "Amin mela lle. Let us begin this new life then." He declared and Jareth nodded. He held his mate's gaze for a long moment, drawing strength from the love and devotion he could read there. Then, he turned to face the rabid crowd.

"**SILENCE!**" He roared and in a few seconds, he was obeyed. "I am Jareth, King of the Goblins and the Underground. This is my Consort, the Royal Prince Elessar. Your government no longer exists, we are now your sovereigns."


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part if Harry Potter or Labyrinth.**

**A/N: I'm sorry it has taken me so long to update this story. I've been somewhere else, mentally, for a long time, what with changing medications, treatments, and CPN's who should know better. I don't think I've done the story or the genre justice, but for the moment, this is the best I can do. Thanks to everyone who has been so supportive, and have left reviews, I really do appreciate it.**

**Thanks again,**

**Rianess**

**

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen - Epilogue

**

* * *

**

_"How you turn my world  
You precious thing.  
You starve and near exhaust me.  
Everything I've done,  
I've done for you.  
I move the stars for no one."_

**

* * *

**

"The Wizarding World of Britain had been brought to its knees. Nothing like this had ever happened before, and no one could really tell how they would cope with it.

"The Fates had not only left the British wizards and witches without their magic, they had also then landed those from the Underground with the cleanup. Apparently, this was something they were known to do – ride into town, cause chaos and then conveniently disappear again when it was all over.

"Things were sorted out of course, eventually. Not many people were very happy with the way it all turned out, but then, as Harry had said numerous times before, '_You can't please everybody'_. For historians, teaching and explaining about these times to future generations, much of the specifics were lost, but the overall message stayed the same: _tolerance, equality, family, cooperation._ Also, a new adage would arise among the old wives of various cultures: _'Don't mess with other people's lives!'_

"For King Dellandario and Queen Enaberia, life continued much as it had for the last few centuries. They were overjoyed to have their family back in one piece, but once the initial shock of events wore off, they spent their time as they always had, tending their kingdom and their subjects, holding all in readiness until they departed and their eldest son took over.

"Said eldest son, Talemario spent much of his time at his father's side. He was determined to become the best ruler he could be, and though he intended to make his own mark, he knew he could not learn all he needed to know from anyone more worthy than his own sire. He also had firm plans to spoil as many of his nieces and nephews as possible, and had a lot of fun harrying his brother and sister to 'get with the baby-making'.

"After she gave birth to their first child, Caredessi was more than happy to spend an inordinate amount of time trying to make another baby with her husband, but naturally did not fill her older brother in on any of the details. The couple and the rest of the family rejoiced when she and Elalaeryn were successful and were pronounced to be expecting twins. Children were rare among elves, since they led such prolonged lives, many put off even trying to find a mate, let alone starting a family, until it was too late.

"Sirius and Lucius did not have the smoothest of transitions into their new roles, since there was an awful lot of bad blood between the two of them. Both felt as though necessity was forcing the other one to be with them, and not true affection or love. This all changed when a very foolish courtier made a move on Lucius in Sirius' presence. A growl and a shove was all it took for the erstwhile Marauder to claim his mate, and thus reassure both of them that what they had was real, and would last.

"Malfoy the younger and his Weasley mate probably had some of the toughest times. Insecurity and misunderstandings threatened to drive the two of them apart more than once. Draco had rarely had anything denied him, and expected his mate to concede to his wishes as well. He was in for a rude awakening when he discovered that he was not the dominant in their relationship, but that Bill, in fact, was. Bill frankly told his made that he had some growing up still to do, but promised to be with him every step of the way. With time and relative peace on their side, they managed to form a deep bond of mutual love, which lingered with them until their dying days, and some might even argue, beyond.

"Severus and Remus were the one couple that most didn't believe would last. Everyone knew they were bonded, but their bond did not drive them to be together all the time. Once the second of his two masters was removed from the picture, Severus surprised many by demanding a family from his furry lover. After he had recovered from the shock, Remus had no trouble in obliging, and the two of them proceeded to pop out four children in quick succession. It is rumoured that the Potions Lab in their house has some of the finest wards around – little fingers will get into everything, after all.

"Life for the former magical folk of Great Britain, was not so peaceful, however. The hardest news of all, was that many witches and wizards had lived far beyond the normal lifespan of muggles, and when their magic was taken from them, their health deteriorated rapidly. The death toll of heart attacks and the like sky rocketed in the first few weeks. This did not go down well with the rest of the population, and more than one angry mob had to be subdued. The goblins took charge of this themselves, and sadly, are not known for taking prisoners.

"In those early days, mistakes were made. Jareth and Elessar wondered more than once if they really were the best people for the job. Nevertheless, they persevered. The former magical folk, now squibs, were still kept separate from muggle society, most of them not having any clue on how to survive in that world, let alone interact with it in any useful sense.

"To begin with, the children, who were still magical, were allowed to stay with their parents. A new protection agency was borne, however, when it was discovered that some of those families were using their children as virtual slaves in their own households, making them use their fledgling magic for the tasks the adults had become used to doing with a flick of their wands.

"Not all parents had reacted this way, but those who had found themselves stripped of their rights to their children quicker than they could blink. Loving homes among those in the Underground were found for the displaced children, and most were thriving.

"Some of the adults had taken it much further, however, and had kidnapped magical children, to turn them into a insurrection group again their new rulers. Elessar and his friends and family were not surprised when it turned out that the leader of this group was Albus Dumbledore. Most of the Order of the Phoenix had been right up there with him, declaring that the whole situation was Elessar's fault, and that he had worked some dark, forbidden magic to bring this whole situation about.

"Their rebellion was blessedly short lived, however, since the goblins had been keeping tails on some of the squibs most likely to cause trouble, Dumbledore's name being pretty much at the top of that list. When he was taken in for questioning, the whole, sordid tale of how he had used and manipulated Elessar, and countless others, came out.

"He spoke of how he had been told of the magical baby his ancestors had stolen from the Underground. They had taken an infant particularly, and held him in stasis at that age, since that was when his magic would be most pure, and uncorrupted.

"They needed his uncorrupted magic to ensure they could perform the most powerful of light magic spells. Since the family had become more and more enamoured with power and control over the years, their magic had started to follow suit. If they were not able to perform on the level of light magic that the world would expect them to, then their secrets would soon be found out. They would become pariahs, practically excommunicated from wizard society, for if there was one thing that people loved, it was knocking down a hero.

"A family like the Malfoys, for instance, would not have the same problems. They never pretended to be the protectors of all things light and fluffy. They believed in the traditions and heritage of the their world and made no effort to hide the lengths to which they would go to ensure their culture would survive.

"Not so for the Dumbledores, they were not satisfied by merely being thought well of, no, they wanted to be worshipped, to be placed on a pedestal, hence, they needed powerful light magic. One of Albus' ancestors had come up with the solution of a magical baby, and had later snatched Elessar from his cradle.

"Things had gone well for the family for a number of years, until Albus had started to leech more magic from the child than he should. He didn't see why he had to take such a small amount, since it wouldn't harm the baby if he did, what he didn't take into account, was how it would affect his own body. He very quickly reached the point of saturation, where he couldn't take in any more. After he defeated Grindlewald, and he tried to replenish his reserves with Elessar's magic, he hit upon a problem. The ritual would no longer work for him. His own magic had leapt upon the intruder and rejected it, much in the same way a body's immune system can reject a donated organ.

"He began researching into how he could counteract this effect, but met with little success. When the news of the new Dark Lord reached his ears, he realised he would not have the power to destroy this upstart himself. That was when he had hit upon the idea of disguising Elessar and allowing him to grow up.

"So, he meticulously changed the child's appearance and bound his elven powers within his core. When the time was right, he was planning to unbind the boy and let the backlash take both he and the Dark Lord down. He knew that if the child was allowed to live through the experience then he would prove a threat to Albus' whole way of life.

"When the child had managed to take down the Dark Lord without the unbinding, Albus had been in shock. He was very worried that his position was now at risk and began a slow campaign to poison the minds of witches and wizards everywhere, against Harry Potter. After all, Albus had made him, so why couldn't he destroy him?

"Unfortunately for him, Fate had other ideas, and brought The Book, the last hope of the Underground to find their missing child, to Harry. Chance had been annoyed with Destiny some years before, and so had played a cruel trick on one of her favourites to get back at her, by sending the book to Sarah Williams and activating the enchantments. Disaster had been avoided, thanks to Fortune, and Destiny's plan for Elessar and Jareth proceeded unhindered from then on.

"After the truth of the Dumbledore family's actions had been spread far and wide among the populace, all rebellion died down. No one wanted to dwell on how close to disaster one man and their own short sightedness had led them. Without realising it, many of the now squibs had taken their first, very important steps on the road towards earning back their magic.

"New laws were established for the peaceful and equal coexistence of all magical creatures. Human witches and wizards were counted as magical creatures themselves. Stronger ties were made with foreign magical communities, and the British community pushed vehemently for similar laws to be made in the International Confederation of Wizards. The ICW and other communities did take note of what had happened in Britain, and made plans to never fall into that kind of complacency themselves. Olive branches and the like were offered to previously shunned peoples, such as werewolves, banshees and vampires. Most were happy to live in their own enclaves, but trade between communities flourished.

"Better protections were put in place, to ensure secrecy and segregation between muggles and the magical community. Children were taught about their world, and encouraged to keep the old ways alive, Samhain, Beltane and other such festivals were celebrated publicly and joyfully. When new muggleborns started to pop up, they were given the opportunity to learn about the world they now belonged to almost immediately.

"As for Jareth and Elessar, they celebrated the birth of their first child, a baby girl, whom they promptly named Magdalaena. They were to be blessed with five more children, the second borne being twins. Not much is known about their lives together, and when asked, their representative will only say that he's never seen The Labyrinth so peaceful and alive.

"The first time I cast a spell since the reformation, I wept. I had been missing my magic for such a long time, that to have it back was to regain a piece of myself. I felt complete, whole, for the first time in years. I made a vow that day, to make sure this story would not be forgotten. I want you to remember it, and tell your children, your grandchildren, and anyone else who will listen, and when you do, remind them of this: _He who would sacrifice freedom for security, deserves neither freedom nor security._ Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for listening."

And with that Ginny Weasley opened the door, and walked away.


End file.
